The Ballad of George and Lori
by Beatlesfan60
Summary: Being best friends with John Lennon and winning the heart of George Harrison, it's all going good for Lori and the Beatles in the early 60's. But her relationship with George is threatened by a very jealous other man...
1. Chapter 1

There he stood, the love of my life. And while I sat there, watching, waiting, he didn't even look my way. But what did I care? We weren't close enough to start a decent conversation, let alone become lovers. He could just sit there, playing his stupid little guitar till there's nothing left of him, I don't care. He's not worth my valuable time. Not worth it at all.

I only wish he would just look at me, for once.

I sighed as I felt someone approaching me. "Lori, what are you doing?" John asked from behind me. I turned around to face him and shrugged. "Nothing."

He sat next to me. "You ok?" he asked. I nodded. "I better be heading home soon, don't want to bother you guys." I told him.

"You're not bothering us, you support us." He smiled. "Are you coming to the Cavern Club tomorrow night? We're playing there at 7."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world." I said.

John gave a sigh of relief. He said, "Good. I'll see you later." and walked away.

I sighed again as I continued to stare at the man who I needed to get over, wishing he could catch me staring at him so I could have some hope that he knows I exist. But still, nothing. Not a single glance. This whole falling in love concept is extremely complicated. But he should know all about that since he loved some girl named Jenny, a girl he met while playing at the Cavern. I've seen her, a ditsy blond who obviously likes him because he can play guitar. But yeah, he notices her rather than the girl who's best friends with his band mate and is always around, supporting the band day and night. No, i didn't want to think of that. It was going to upset me even more. I yawned as I looked at the time. 10 o' clock.

I got up from the chair I was sitting on, looking around John's apartment room for my keys. As I was heading out, I ran right into Paul, almost falling over.

"I'm so sorry, Lori." Paul apologized.

"No, it's fine. I'm fine." I assured him.

He smiled at me. "I really hope you'll be at the Cavern Club tomorrow. It'll be fun."

I nodded. "I'll be there."

He continued smiling, pulled me closer to him, and kissed my cheek. I smiled politely as he walked away. I loved Paul to death, really. But I have told him many times before, it would be best for both of us if we stayed friends. And yes, George was a big part of that decision. If I weren't absolutely in love with him, I'd probably end up with Paul, you never know. Apparently, he just doesn't understand when I tell him I can't be with him. But then again, no girl in their right mind has rejected him before. I mustn't be in my right mind, after all.

I was about to head out the door when I heard a familiar voice from behind me. "Lori," it called. I spun around immediately. George handed me a hat. "I believe this is yours?" he said. I took the black hat from his hand. "Thank you." I said, a bit disappointed. I turned around and walked out the door.

I headed back home, tired as i'd ever been. I sat on my bed, picked up my guitar, and began to play random chords. "As i write this letter, send my love to you. Remember that i'll always be in love with you. Treasure these few words 'till we're together. Keep all my love forever. P.S. I love you. You, you, you..." and right then, tears began to roll down my eyes. Why? What did that Jenny have that I didn't? Looks, i think not. Brains, not even close. I put down my guitar and laid down on my bed. "It's not fair, it's not fair, it's not fair..." I repeated as i slowly drifted to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

I was awakened the next morning by the telephone beside my bed. I looked at my watch and groaned. Who the hell was calling me at 6 o'clock in the morning?

"Hello?" I said, sounding irritated.

"Sorry to wake you darling but I have great news!" I knew it was John.

"What? What happened?" I asked him.

"Well, you can forget about the Cavern tonight because we just got signed!"

"What?!" I asked, now sitting up. (AN: Ok, this isn't too accurate. The Beatles had been signed to a German record label before. They later went on a trip to Hamburg, Germany, which I will be skipping in this story. Also, Stuart Sutcliffe *original bassist* will not be part of this story either.)

"You heard me. Brian Epstein got George Martin to sign us to EMI's Parlophone. This is great, soon enough we'll be recording!" He said, excitingly.

I couldn't help but smile this early Saturday morning. "I'll be over in a few." I told him excitingly and hung up the phone. I quickly got ready and went out the door, literally running all the way to John's house.

With barely any breath, I knocked on his door. Pete answered (AN: Pete Best was the original drummer of the Beatles). "Got the news, eh?"

I grinned and hugged him. I knew they've wanted this for a while now, and I loved that they finally got the opportunity."Yes i heard! I'm so happy for you guys!" I told him.

"Yeah, it's really exciting. George Martin wants to check us out, see what he thinks of us. Brian, our manager, let him listen to a couple of recordings we made and some stuff from the Cavern Club. Turns out he really likes us." He smiled as he said this.

"When will you see him?" I asked.

"Soon, we hope. I think the guys are talkin' to him right now. Probably scheduling us an appointment."

"Are they inside?"

"Yeah, come in." Pete escorted me into the living room to find John and George on the couch and Paul on the phone next to them.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Martin...yes, yes we will surely be there...oh, we're definitely ready...thanks again!" Paul hung up the phone and smiled. "Alright men, we will be headin' to the studio tomorrow!"

John stood up. "Y'know what this means?"

"Free food?" answered George.

"No. Well, yes, but no. This means, if we get any success, we'll actually make some money! And not that pitiful 3 pounds an hour we've been gettin' at the Cavern. I'm talkin' cold, hard cash." He announced.

"Yeah, that too." said George. I sat down next to him. Guess what? Not even a glance. What did it take with this man?

"Lori, didya hear?" asked Paul.

I nodded. "I heard, Paulie. Got any song ideas?"

He shrugged. "We'll bring in a couple of our stuff we have written. But it's up to them, really..."

"You got any ideas, my dear?" asked John. George and Paul immediately looked at me with a confused expression.

John smiled. "You guys are fuckin' slow. Lori here's been writing songs since I first met her." He told them. "She also plays guitar pretty damn good." I felt my face getting hot as he said those words. I was always very shy when it came to my music. It was something very personal to me.

George looked at me. "Really?"

_Alright Lori, he looks impressed. Keep it up, he'll finally notice you_, I thought. "Uh, yeah but it's nothing really..." I said, looking down.

George stood up and grabbed his guitar from across the room. He handed it to me. "Play something for us, luv."

I looked up immediately, filled with joy at the very sound of his voice talking to me. But once I took the guitar, my shyness took over. I didn't feel too good, now. My hands shook and I could barely hold the guitar right. I tried to play the first note, but it came out sounding horrid. I kept going with the song, the one I had written just last night, as if nothing had happened, but the next couple of notes sounded worse than the first. I began to sing, "As I write this letter...send my love to you...remember that...I'll always-" I had to stop myself. The chords didn't go along with the words, my voice quivered and you could barely understand what I had said. I put the guitar down and bit my lip. This had to be one of the most mortifying moments I have ever experienced. And all in front of him...


	3. Chapter 3

"God, Lori, that was awful." Classic John, never caring about other people's feelings. I looked down without saying a word as I handed George back his guitar.

Paul looked at him. "Shut up, John. She probably wasn't ready. But you had to push her into playing something for us, didn't you? It's alright, Lori." He said as he sat down beside me on John's couch. I was wearing a short, black dress and he decided to put his hand on my leg. Dammit, Paul.

"Yeah," I began to say, trying to sound as calm as possible but still sounding like I was about to erupt into tears. "I wasn't ready, that's all."

"How is this my fault?" John asked, sounding offended.

"How is _everything_ your fault, John?" Said Pete, standing beside him.

"I dunno, you people think everything's my bloody fault." John walked over to the kitchen, where he grabbed a beer.

"That's because it is." Paul said to him. "Everything is faulted towards you because you always do something you aren't supposed to. That's how you are. Sometimes I just think you want the attention."

"Attention? You don't know what your talking about, you little bastard."

"Just a thought. Inappropriate actions is expected from you, John." Paul shrugged.

"You're one to talk about 'inappropriate actions'. Last time I remember, you said you lost your virginity at 15 years old."

"At least I don't get a thrill from fighting and stealing from others."

John narrowed his eyes and walked to where he was sitting. "Maybe. But at least I don't get rejected by a girl I most desperately want." He shot back, looking at me and then back at him.

Paul's face turned serious. "Shut the hell up, John."

John smiled. "Make me."

Paul stood up and I quickly put myself between them. "You two stop it." I said, trying to break up the argument.

John crossed his arms. "Thanks Lori, dear. Wouldn't want Paulie to get hurt, would we?"

I lightly hit his arm. "I mean it John, stop."

He continued smiling as he walked back into the kitchen. Everything turned awkwardly quiet. I looked around and saw that George wasn't in the room. I might as well go look for him.

I went on to the next room, which was the room John and George shared, and found him sitting on the bed playing a beautiful tune on his guitar. He played, then stopped to write something down on the paper beside him, and then continued playing. I felt I needn't disturb him, so I leaned on the door, waiting for him to finish.

"That was wonderful." I told him when he had finished. He quickly turned around. "Oh, thanks." He said.

"Did you just write that now?" I asked, sitting beside him without getting too close to him. "Uh huh." He answered.

"So, it just simply came into your mind?" I said. "Yeah." He answered once again. I wanted to yell at the fact that this was always what happened to us. I would ask him questions and try to start a conversation but all he would give me were one to two word answers. It made me so mad.

I nodded and sat there quietly, not wanting to go back into the living room with the other guys. After about ten minutes of silence and him writing stuff down on paper, he put down his guitar. I was afraid he would get up and leave me alone in the room without saying a word, which seemed very likely. Instead, he turned to me.

"Why were you so nervous when you played the song?" He asked, suddenly.

"What do you mean?" I asked him, though I knew exactly what he meant.

"Well, you seemed pretty nervous when you started to play. You're voice kept breaking and your hand was shaking. I didn't understand why, though."

"Uh, I dunno. Just wasn't ready, I guess." I told him. _Liar, liar, liar._

"Oh. I thought there was just a particular reason for you to be nervous." He shrugged.

"Oh, you have no idea." I said, obviously not thinking.

"What?" He said with that adorable perplexed expression.

"Nevermind." I said quickly.

"You know, Paul doesn't care much if you play guitar or not. He goes for the looks." He told me.

Now it was my turn to be confused. "What?" I asked.

"I was thinking you might have been nervous since Paul was in the room. Usually girls get nervous around him for the stupidest reasons. And I know he likes you and all..."

I wanted to laugh out loud because of how wrong this boy was. "No, no. I can guarantee you that Paul was not the reason I was nervous."

"So you admit you were nervous?" He said, smiling.

I smiled back. "I'm not admitting anything." I told him.

"Fine, fine. Then I'm sure you wouldn't mind playing the song for me this time, would you?" He said.

"Uh...no, no I wouldn't mind." I said, trying to hide the nerves from my face.

"Wonderful." He said, still smiling.

This was dreadful. I knew that, if I couldn't play for him when there were others around, I wouldn't be able to play for him personally. But I had to. This was the only opportunity I had.

He handed me his guitar once again. I played the first note, which came out surprisingly well. The next note did, too, and so did the following.

"_As I write this letter, send my love to you. Remember that I'll always be in love with you. Treasure these few words 'til we're together, keep all my love forever. P.S., I love you. You, you, you. I'll be coming home again to you, love, and 'til the day I do, love. P.S., I love you. You, you, you. As I write this letter, send my love to you. Remember that I'll always be in love with you. Treasure these few words 'til we're together, keep all my love forever. P.S., I love you. You, you, you. As I write this letter, Send my love to you. Remember that I'll always be in love with you. I'll be coming home again to you, love, and 'til the day I do, love. P.S., I love you. You, you, you. You, you, you... I love you._"

Relief swept over me. I was so happy to have played that song to him, the person I had in mind when writing this. He looked at me. "That was amazing."

"Thank you." I said.

"You wrote that yourself?" He asked.

"I did." I answered.

"Anyone particular in mind when you wrote that?"

"Yes."

He nodded. "I loved it."


	4. Chapter 4

We just looked at each other for a few seconds. I've never been that close to him before. I studied his face, his gorgeous features. I wanted to just grab him and kiss him, never let him go. But I couldn't do that, unfortunately, since he probably didn't like me like that. _Probably. _

"How long have you played guitar?" He asked after a few seconds.

I shrugged. "Technically it would 'ave been nine years. My father taught me when I was eight."

"Nine years? That's a long time." He said, impressed.

"Well it's not really nine years. See, my father left my mom an' the family when I was nine. It affected me immensely. It also affected my mother, too. She didn't talk to us much after. She didn't like to spend time with us and act so full of joy like she used to when my dad was around, though she tried. She had to work a lot more than before so she could support me and my two older brothers. I barely got to see her. I was so mad, I didn't want anything to do with 'im. John was there when he left and later when I was twelve, he got me playin' it again. And I've played it ever since..." I explained. It was always hard talking about my father. But that was what got John and I closer since his father left when he was only two.

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that, Lori. You're really good." He said softly. He stayed quiet for a little while. I loved his shyness, his innocence.

George got a piece of paper and a pen and handed it to me. "Write the song down. I want to show that to George Martin tomorrow." He told me, smiling. I took the paper and pen and gladly wrote down the song I had just played for him. "Show it to John." He said and I went to look for John. I really didn't want to leave him. The only time I ever got to be alone with him and he sends me out. What a disappointment.

I walked over to the room where the lads were. Pete and Paul were there, drinking beers and chatting it up. "Where's John?" I asked them.

Paul pointed to a closed door which was the room Paul and Pete shared. "In there."

"Why is he in your room?"

Paul shrugged. "He usually goes to his own, but he saw you and George were there so he locked himself in our room. By the way, what _were _you and George doing alone in that room?" Paul asked with narrowed eyes.

"Can I see 'im?" I asked, ignoring Paul's question. Pain in the arse.

"Good luck, he always locks himself in 'is room at exactly 3.30. Never lets anyone see what he's doin'. Probably wanking off to Elvis Presley." Paul answered, obviously still mad at John from their previous argument.

"Or Brigitte Bardot." Pete added.

"Well we all do that." Paul said, smiling.

I rolled my eyes and started walking towards the door.

"Aren't you going to answer my question, luv?" he asked.

"Give it a rest." I said. How long have I waited to say that to him! I didn't even want to look at his reaction. I knocked on the door.

"Fuck off!" John yelled from the other side.

"John, let me in." I said.

"Go away!"

"How about you give it a rest, Lori? He won't let you in." Paul said. I could tell from his voice he was rather annoyed. Good.

"Please?" I said softly to the door.

Pause. "Come in." John spoke.

I turned around and stuck my tongue out at Paul as John unlocked the door. I went inside and saw John sitting down at his desk, writing. Locking himself in a room at a specific time everyday to write? Well, this was odd.

"What do you want?" He asked.

"I'll tell you when you explain what yer doin'." I told him.

"Does it matter?"

I looked over his shoulder. "Damn John, what are you writing? A bloody book?" There were several papers on his desk full of writing.

He stopped writing, took off his glasses, and turned to me. "What do you want?" John repeated.

"I just wanted to give you this. I played it fer George and he seemed to like it." I handed him the paper with the title 'P.S. I Love You'.

He put his glasses back on and took the paper. After a couple of seconds, he nodded. "Good job, Lori. I knew you 'ad it in ya." He turned back around and began writing once more.

"Aren't you going to show me what you're writing?" I asked him.

When he didn't answer, I decided to snatch a paper from his desk.

"Hey!" John tried to grab the paper, but failed to do so.

I began to read the letter and a smile crossed my face. It was a love letter. Beautifully written, may I say. I never knew he had it in him.

"John, this is beautiful." I complimented as I held the letter.

"It's nothing." He said, obviously quite embarrassed.

"Who is this for?" I asked but I knew the answer.

"Nobody." John answered, going back to writing his recent letter.

"All of these letters for nobody?" I asked, smiling.

"Uh huh." He said.

"I'm sure Miss Powell wouldn't appreciate you calling her a nobody, now would she?"

He quickly turned. "How did you know that?"

"You don't think I pay attention to these things, Johnny boy? You and Cynthia are dating. It's obvious."

He sighed. "Do me a favor," he snatched the letter from my hand.

"What?" I asked, reaching for another.

"Don't tell the others about this."

"I wasn't planning to. But I don't see why they wouldn't like to know, these letters are so sweet..."

"Lori, please! If they found out I'll never hear the end of it. Not that I don't get enough of their bullshit when they see me go up to Cyn for a chat here and there." He shook his head. "Bastards. They wished they had a girl like her."

"You really love 'er." I said, sitting down on the bed beside the desk.

He shrugged. "Can you just please do me that favor?"

"Of course."

"An' I better not hear George finding out about this." He said.

"Where would you get the idea that I'd tell 'im?" I asked.

"Apparently you fell for the kid. Can't understand why though. Annoying as hell to share a room with 'im. Smelly, too."

I was confused now. John, of all people, figuring out the one thing I haven't told anyone? AND he has a soft side? Shock after shock. "How'd you know?"

He grinned. "You don't think I pay attention to these things, Lori girl?"


	5. Chapter 5

**_Well, I haven't really said the year yet in this story. It is 1961, Brian Epstein (current manager) already saw the Beatles perform in the Cavern and told Mr. George Martin about them. He works for EMI's Parlophone, and suggests to sign the Beatles. (Yes, this did actually happen. I'm trying to make this story as historically correct as I can. :)  
_**

The next day, I got up early and headed over to John's. As I walked in, the lads were getting ready for their big day with George Martin. Pete was fiddling with his drumsticks, George was picking up his guitar, Paul was fixing his hair and John was messing his up.

"Can anyone help me find my guitar pick?" asked George in his quiet voice, as if only speaking to himself.

"I'll help you, George." I said as I walked over to him. John began to cough uncontrollably which I knew wasn't just a 'cough'.

"Are you ok?" asked Paul, looking away from the mirror.

"Yeah, John, are you ok? I'm sure Cynthia wouldn't like you coughin' up on all her letters?" I said loudly. He just couldn't help himself, could he? John suddenly stopped and glared at me. I smiled and turned back to look for the pick.

"Letters?" I heard Pete ask John.

"Nothing!" John replied harshly, which made Pete step back from him.

I noticed a small, red guitar pick and quickly made my way to pick it up. "Ow!" I said as my head hit George's with a loud _thump._

"Sorry." George apologized, rubbing his head.

"Ah it's ok. Here's your pick." I handed it to him. He smiled his classic half-smile as he took it from my hand. My heart skipped a beat.

"When you guys stop flirting, can we please get going?" John asked. I played out a scenario in my head about how I was going to kill this boy when I had the chance. Or at least talk to him. I always had to be the mature one with John, though he was three years older than me.

"Get the instruments, George." said Paul, eyeing the situation going on between George and I. Who did he think he was? Let 'im get his own instrument, dammit.

Without a word, George picked up his guitar and both Paul and John's guitars and began to make his way to the front door. He was struggling, and yet he didn't argue with Paul about getting his own instrument like I would have done if I were him.

"God George, don't drop 'em." Paul said coldly, as he just stared at him.

"Let me help you with that, George." I said, getting Paul's bass guitar. I pretended to clean it off a bit, waiting for George to go out the door. Once he was gone, I casually walked over to Paul. I shoved the guitar onto his chest and he let out a sound of pain.

"What the fuck, Lori!" He said, surprised at my behavior, as he took the guitar.

"Stop treating him like your little lapdog. Next time, take your damn guitar yourself rather than watching him struggle with the fucking orders you give 'im." I said and walked out the door. John, George, and Pete were putting stuff in the back of the car.

"Who's drivin'?" I asked as they closed the car door. John obviously took the car from his auntie.

"John is. So if he crashes, he'll get blamed for both the wrecking of the car _and _the stealin' of it." George explained.

"You didn't ask for it?" I asked John as I got into the passenger's seat.

John shook his head. "Mimi doesn't even trust me with the knives in her own kitchen, let alone her car." He shrugged.

"And yet she lets you live in a house by yourself?"

"This is me mum's house. God knows where she is now, I'm sure she wouldn't mind." John started up the car as everyone got in. "Plus, as long as I don't crash it, she'll never know."

The trip was a long one. It took almost an hour to get to the studio where they were scheduled to see George Martin. George and Pete were busy talking about how Mr. Martin would react to them and John was saying his usual witty remarks to mostly me, since Paul was quietly looking out of the window in a daze. I began to feel bad, but I wasn't going to apologize. He deserved it.

"Men...and lady," John winked at me. "We have arrived." He pulled in to the tall building and parked the car. When we entered, it felt like one of those hotels that you saw Elvis Presley or Buddy Holly stay at when we went to the cinema, but which we never got the privilege of staying in before. We went up to the counter which had a rather professional looking woman writing stuff down in a notebook.

"May I help you?" She asked.

"Yeah, we're here to see George Martin." John said.

"Name?"

"The Beatles."

The woman looked through some papers on her desk and nodded. "Alright, Beatles, first you go to the elevator and go up to the ninth floor. Turn to your right and go down that hallway until you see a door that says 909. It says George Martin in big letters, you can't miss it." She instructed.

"Thanks." said John and made his way to the elevators, with us following.

Once we reached the ninth floor, we all began looking for room 909. Of course, we didn't know how these hotels worked so it took us a while.

"Found it!" Pete shouted from across the hallway, standing in front of a door that indeed said GEORGE MARTIN.

"Shh!" Hushed John. "You're not supposed to yell in a hotel hallway, dumbfuck!"

Pete rolled his eyes as John passed by him and knocked on the door. Another woman greeted us. "Hello, are you the Beatles?" She asked.

"That's us. Are you George Martin?" asked John, jokingly. She wasn't amused.

"No, he's inside. Come along." She let us inside the room. It was a very large office. There were signs that read, 'EMI'S PARLOPHONE' on the walls and portraits of different artists we all knew very well; Elvis, Buddy Holly, Little Richard, Bill Haley, and Jerry Lee Lewis. It was all very interesting.

A door opened and there appeared a man who introduced himself as George Martin. "Need I get any of you something to drink?" He asked, politely.

"No, thanks." We all answered.

"So, are you all the Beatles?" He said, looking at me. "Because I recall Mr. Epstein telling me it was made up by four lads."

"Oh, Lori's just here because we asked her to be. She's not in the band, though." John explained.

"Hmm," He put out his hand, which I gladly took and shook it. "Pleasure to meet you, Lori."

"Pleasure to meet you too, Mr. Martin."

He smiled. "Alright lads, ready to show me what you've got? If I sign you, I might as well see how well you play. I hear your popular here in Liverpool, correct?"

"Yes. We get asked to play at many clubs here. Mostly at the Cavern Club over in Mathew Street." said Paul.

"Cavern Club? That's a famous little rock n' roll club, eh? Very nice. Brian saw you play there earlier this year, right?"

They all nodded. "Well, let's get going. We will be going to a small studio, by the way. It is for an audition." He said. "But first, is there anything you lads personally do not like?"

"Well, there's your tie, for a start." George said. They all laughed and so did Mr. Martin.

As John and Paul joined in with the jokes and comic wordplay, George Martin seemed to be very impressed by their wit and personal charm.

Soon after, he led us out of the hotel, into a limousine (which made us get very excited) and headed out to a recording studio a few minutes away. Once we got there, the lads took out their instruments from Mimi's car and went inside. Everything was already set up inside the studio, all they had to do was play for Mr. Martin.

I could tell they were nervous, but this was their chance to make it big. To have this as their lifestyle. John whispered something to each member and they began to play.

"_If there's anything that you want_," They all began to sing. "_If there's anything I could do._ _Just call on me and I'll send it along with love from me to you. I've got everything that you want, like a heart that is oh, so true. Just call on me and I'll send it along with love from me to you. I got arms that long to hold you and keep you by my side. I got lips that long to kiss you and keep you satisfied, oooh. If there's anything that you want, if there's anything I can do, just call on me and I'll send it along with love from me to you. From me, to you. From me, to you. Just call on me and I'll send it along with love from me to you. I got arms that long to hold you and keep you by my side. I got lips that long to kiss you and keep you satisfied, oooh. If there's anything that you want, if there's anything I can do, just call on me and I'll send it along with love from me to you. To you, to you, to you._"

The room fell silent as they finished playing. I grinned. They did a splendid job. George Martin began to clap. "Great. Simply great. You lads are signed!"

The clapping and cheering going on in that studio was wonderful. I hugged each one of them, including Paul, so happy that they got this chance.

"But," Mr. Martin said once the cheering had died down. The room fell silent once again, this time with worry and suspense. 'But' was never a good thing. "There is one problem..." said George Martin.

**_~ I love all the reviews I'm getting! Please R+R everyone! I want to know how I'm doing so far... :D ~_**


	6. Chapter 6

"What is it, Mr. Martin?" Paul asked, bewildered. I didn't find a single problem with their performance or anything, so this was starting to worry me.

He pointed a finger to Pete. "What's your name, son?" He asked him.

"Pete Best, sir." Pete said in his usual polite manner.

"How long have you been drumming?" George Martin asked.

"It would be three years now, sir." Pete answered. I could tell he was as puzzled as the rest of us.

"Can you play something for me now?" Mr. Martin asked.

"Yes, what should I play?"

"Anything." George Martin leaned against the wall as he watched Pete begin to play a simple number on his drums. When he had finished, Mr. Martin let out a sigh. Pete sat there, waiting for him to speak.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Best, but I just cannot see a future with you in this band." He said slowly.

We all stood there, puzzled and saddened by Mr. Martin's words. Pete was a fine man and we didn't see anything wrong with his drumming. Apparently, we could see him with a future in this band, so we couldn't understand why George Martin could not.

"Why?" John said, a bit angry by the decision.

"Pete here just doesn't fit with your sound. His style of drumming is just not acceptable for me. I could definitely see a future for you lads in this business, but not with him. I'm sorry." He explained.

We all looked at Pete, waiting for a reaction. "Alright, I understand." He grabbed his drumsticks and headed out for the door. He said, "I'll catch up with ya lads later." and he was gone.

We stood there, rather stunned at what had happened. But, I thought, if the band couldn't go on with Pete then this would be the better choice, right?

"What are we gonna do now?" asked George.

"I've got the perfect replacement drummer for you. Do any of you recall a little group called Rory Storm and the Hurricanes?" Mr. Martin asked.

"Yeah. They played with us at the Cavern." Paul said.

"Well their drummer is Richard Starkey, best known as his stage name Ringo Starr. I've listened to his drumming a couple of times and I say he is a perfect drummer for you lads." George Martin smiled. "If you would be able to come in tomorrow, I'll have him over and we'll see."

We agreed to meet tomorrow at the same studio and called it a day. A very confusing day, that is. What were we going to do without Pete? It would all be so...awkward...

"Starkey? He's going to put Starkey in _my_ band? This is a fucking outrage!" John yelled when we all had gone into the car. Pete had taken a bus back to his house. Pete never took the bus. This was certainly a problem.

"Calm down, John. Rich is a nice chap, and Mr. Martin said he'd be better for the band..." Paul tried to tell him.

"Better for the band my arse. I've seen him play those bloody drums before, Pete could do just as good. I don't see how his style is "unacceptable" for that bastard..." John's temper usually gets the better of him.

"The choice has already been made. We either take Starkey or kiss the record deal goodbye." George said.

John sighed. "This is bullshit I tell you."

Paul shrugged. "What do you know?"

"Sod off." John turned a corner quite aggressively.

"You know, Rich has got lots o' money. Rory Storm and the Hurricanes are pretty damn good, too. I wonder if they'll let 'im go..." George wondered.

"Hopefully not. Maybe we'll get Pete back." John shrugged.

"C'mon John, what's he ever done to ya? He's a sweet fella, I'm sure it'll be fine." Paul assured.

"_Sweet fella, nice chap..._" John mimicked Paul in a rather high-pitched voice. "Why so much love, McCartney? I'm just waitin' for ya to toss him off already!" John yelled.

"Sod you. I'm just not an arsehole like you are, Lennon. I actually respect other's thoughts and opinions."

"Oh the lad is a saint!" John said sarcastically. Paul knew better than to continue with the argument. The rest of the ride was silent from then on until we got back to the small home.

"We got company?" John asked himself as he pulled up beside it. There was another car in front of the house, one I didn't recognize. Once seeing our arrival, the two front doors opened and out came four women. They were tall, blond and, from what I could see, very pretty.

John got out of the car immediately. "What brings you birds to me home?" He asked smiling at them. Paul and George got out of the car in a rush, as well.

"We met one of you guys at the Cavern the other day. Gave us your address, though we'd stop by." said one of the girls. 'Stopping by' at 8.30 at night, to a home of four men, dressed like whores who looked like they would much rather be at a street corner? There was more on their minds.

"I don't recall meeting any of you ladies at the Cavern? Must've been Pete..." Paul said.

Another girl shrugged. "Like it matters. There are only three of you though?" She gave me a horrid look when I got out of the car.

"Do any of you gals mind sharing?" John grinned.

"Do ya guys already have a girl?" One spoke, looking at me.

"Uh no, I was just leaving. I'll call you later, John." I answered as I started walking towards the street.

"But your mum's working late, luv. I can't leave you alone." John said. He couldn't expect me to stay with my original plan and spend the night with these girls here?

"I'll be fine." I answered him.

"It's dark. Please let me drive you home." I heard a quiet voice suggest. I turned to face George and nodded. "Alright."

"You're gonna miss the fun, son?" John laughed as we got into the car.

"I'll be back." George said before he closed the door. I looked down at my hands while he drove. It was quiet and I couldn't stand it much longer.

"Why'd you want to drive me home? I could've walked." I said as we were pulling up to my house.

He shrugged. "I couldn't let you walk alone when it's this dark. Wouldn't be very gentlemen like of me, would it? And if you didn't want me to, you could have simply rejected the offer." He said, smiling.

"I guess not and it wouldn't be very ladylike of me to reject such a caring offer, now would it?" I smiled. "You better go back, wouldn't want to miss the 'fun'." I said sarcastically.

He shrugged again. "To be honest, I just wanted to get away from them."

"Why? I thought all guys liked girls like that." I said.

"Well, I like 'em. They're real good looking. But it gets me uncomfortable, all they want is one thing."

"That 'one thing' is what all men want, isn't it?" I could never understand men. Such complicated creatures, it's amazing.

"Not my type, I guess." He said.

"And that Jenny girl? The one you met at the Cavern? You really like her. Is she your type?" I asked.

"Yeah, I like her. But she's got the flattest personality on earth. I only like her 'cause she's got a slight resemblance to Brigitte Bardot." He laughed.

"Not everyone can look like a gorgeous film star like Bardot, now." I laughed along with him. I knew it was true, she was the dullest person in the world. Have you ever gotten that thought, 'God, she's lucky she's pretty"? That's Jenny.

"Yeah. But I like the more independent type. The one who isn't afraid to speak 'er mind, y'know? And I don't mind the occasional good looks 'ere an' there, either." He said.

"Well, good. You are one of the few men I've known that aren't idiotic bastards." I grinned. He was such a sweet person.

"I'm glad." He said.

"Thank you, George." I told him.

He nodded. "My pleasure."

"I'll see you soon." I said.

"Alright."

As I opened the car door and was about to head out, he grabbed my hand. He pulled me closer to him and, ever so lightly, his lips touched mine for the very first time.

_**~ I really hope you liked it! School is such a drag, I've been very caught up with it lately :( BUT I might consider changing point of views in some chapters. How would it be like if it were in George, Paul, or John's point of view rather than Lori's? Hmm, well, you tell me. Suggestions please! I need 'em! Tell me what you think, I love reviews! :D ~**_


	7. Chapter 7

It was a quick peck on the lips which happened way too fast for me to believe. Afterwards, he looked at me then looked down as if apologizing for the one thing I've wanted all this time. I took his head in my hands and kissed him again, this time seeming more like an actual _kiss._ I put my hands around his neck and he put his around my waist. After a few minutes, we pulled away and simply looked at each other. The shock of it all was apparent, everything was so sudden.

"I- I have to go, George." I said, as I opened the car door once again.

He nodded. "I'll see you later."

I nodded, as well. "Don't do anything stupid." I smiled. Just as I was about to close the door, I couldn't help but ask him one thing.

"Would you like to come inside?" I asked. He thought for a minute, looked at his watch, and got out of the car.

"Why not?" He smiled as we entered the empty house . . .

* * * *

I woke the next morning with a headache. I tried to remember what had happened the previous night and smiled when I thought of the birds. Gotta love random whores coming over for some fun here and there. I got out of my bed, put on some clothes, and headed for the kitchen for some tea. John was already there, reading the paper.

"Yer up early." I yawned as I approached him.

"No, yer just up late." John said, not looking up.

I sighed. "Where's the tea?"

John pointed to the stove. I walked over, poured myself some, and sat down next to him without a word.

"Y'know, George came back later than I expected last night. Considerin' the fact Lori lives just 5 minutes away, at the most." John said after a moment of quiet.

I looked up. "Ya don't say?"

He nodded. "Offerin' ta give 'er a ride, stayin' extra time, doubt he 'ad anything better to do. I mean, did you see the birds that came 'ere last night? Must've gotten busy, them two."

I laughed. "George an' Lori? C'mon, John, get real."

"I'm tellin' ya, Paul, something's goin' on..." He smiled.

I drank the tea, trying not to slam it against the bloody wall. _What the fuck? _Who the hell did he think he was? He knows I've liked her, he knows I want her, and what does he do? He takes her. He fucking takes her!Oh I won't let this one slide. I won't.

"Well, that's good for them." I said through clenched teeth.

John laughed loudly. "Jealous, Macca?"

"Jealous?Be serious, Lennon. There's nothin' to be jealous of."

"Of course not." He said sarcastically.

"Sod off."

He smiled. "Are ya gonna take 'im on?"

"What?"

"George? Are ya gonna fight him?" John asked.

"For a girl? Who do you think I am? Mind your own business, John" I said.

He shrugged. "As you wish, master. But make sure you do it when there's nothin' on the telly. Boredom strikes an' I want some action."

Just then, as if on cue, George walked in, rubbing his eyes and yawning. "Where's the tea?"

"'Ello, George! How are you this mornin', mate?" John asked, all smiles. Bastard was doing it on purpose. Typical.

With a confused expression, George walked over to the stove and poured himself some tea. "What's he on?" He said as he sat down next to me.

"I dunno." I answered. I didn't want to talk or look at the skinny bloke beside me.

"So, uh Georgie, what were ya up to last night?" John said, glancing over at me with a smile. I drank my tea silently.

"Not as much fun as you guys were having, that's for sure." George said, also sipping his tea.

"Oh really?" John kept smiling. "Nothing special happened while you were gone? 'Cause ya missed all the fun last night an' I'm _dying_ to know why."

He looked at me then back at him. "I- I just dropped Lori off at 'er house an' that's it. It took me a little while 'cause I decided to pass by Pete's house ta see if he was alright..." George explained. Fucking_ liar_. And when he lies, I know it. Not only is he possibly the worst liar in the bloody universe but I've been around so many times when he lied to his mum saying he was going over my house to study when he really was just going with me to smoke with our other schoolmates, I could tell immediately.

"Oh, that's nice of you, George. So, um, what did Pete say?" John asked, amused at George's obvious lie.

"Well, uh, he wasn't there."

"Impossible. Pete's always there after 9.00 on Saturday's." John narrowed his eyes.

"Uh," George looked down, his voice shaking. "I guess I had the wrong house."

"Ya here that, McCartney? The lad guesses he had the wrong house! Oh heavens, what a shame! Maybe next time I'll show ya the right house, ey?" The sarcasm was clear in John's voice and George continued to look down.

"I guess." George answered.

John came over, patted him on the back, and left the room. I just sat there, drinking my tea, the table possibly being the most entertaining thing in the world at the moment. I didn't want to look at him.

"What's his fucking problem?" George said. I simply shrugged.

"So, uh, what did you guys do last night?" He asked, grinning. I shrugged again.

"You givin' me the silent treatment, Macca?"

I shrugged once more.

"Don't you give me any shite too!" George whined, obviously confused by the situation.

"I'm not doing anything to you." I said, flatly.

"Why are you all so strange?" He asked. I slammed the cup down on the table, scattering drops of hot tea along the table. "Why are you such a fuckin' liar?!" I yelled at him.

"What are you talking about?"

"You know damn well what I'm talking about, Harrison. We know you were out with Lori all night!"

"So? I don't see what the big deal is! It's _my _personal business, why should you care?!" He yelled, as well. Give me a break.

"'Personal business'? Or did you just not want me to know, George? Because you knew you'd be stabbin' me in the back, right?" I said.

"I'm not!"

"Yes you are! You know I like her but no, you want her for yourself. Selfish bastard." I shook my head. "This isn't like you."

"God, Paul, you're acting like a fucking girl! Just because you like her doesn't mean she's off limits to anyone!" He replied.

"To you, she is! Don't you understand? Once you know how much I like her, you don't go off shaggin' her behind my back!"

"That's not true!"

"Yes it is. Back stabbin' little arsehole, you are." I insulted.

"It would only be 'back stabbing' if you two were actually together." George objected.

"Well, we had the chance. Not anymore thanks to your stupid arse."

George laughed. "You actually think you had a chance with 'er? She can barely stand you! I'm sorry, Paul. Alright? I am. But she likes me. It's not my fault." He said quietly. I knew he was trying to be gentle with the situation, because he knew he was hurting his best mate. This infuriated me even more.

"So, what? You two are gonna get together, start a little relationship and live happily ever after while you watch your best mate getting hurt by it all?" I asked.

"Just shutup, Paul! You're acting as if you couldn't live without her. The only thing you want is to fuck her, it's obvious."

"You don't know what you're talking about. That's not fuckin' true!" I said.

"Yes it is! That's all you wanted to do with her since you were 15 years old! I know all you're going to do is get what you want and leave her. As if she deserves that?" George stood up. "I'm sorry, Paul." He walked off before I got to say another word.

'_The only thing you want is to fuck her'_. Did he really think that? All this time, I thought he was the only person that really knew me and yet he comes up with these lies? It's all a bloody joke. And it wasn't fair. I'm not going to let George get the girl I wanted first. She's mine whether he likes it or not, and I'm going to make that pretty damn clear to everyone...

_**~Did you enjoy it? Not my best since I have no clue what really goes on in Paul's head. Please tell me what you think! I'll be changing around POV's a few times, just so you know. Oh and regarding a comment I received for Chapter 6, I am completely aware that Ringo was very much loved in the band. :) John even said himself he always turned to Ringo for advice and trusted him more than anyone else. Like I said before, this story is simply fiction (though some parts did actually happen). So, just so everyone knows, John or anyone else didn't have any bad feelings towards Ringo when he first got in the band, since they played with him many time before and were very close to him in their Cavern Club and Hamburg days... :D Comments, comments, comments!~**_


	8. Chapter 8

Why does everything have to be about him? Why does he always have to steal everything away from me? Why can't he just let me have something for _once?_ Why, why, why!

"I hate you." I said as I kicked one of the loose shoes in my room. I hate him for the way he's treating me. It's not fair that every time I get something he wants, I have to suffer and, sooner or later, my stupid arse has to give him what he doesn't deserve. All to be the 'good friend' I fucking am.

I sat down on my bed, resting my head in my hands. I don't want to hurt Paul. That's the last thing I want to do. But it's not like he's going to die by not having the girl he wants. He's going to have to learn the world doesn't revolve around him. But how? I already said sorry and I don't want to have to go through all that yelling again. And I refuse to hand over Lori to him. I needed help.

"John!" I called from the room. I waited for a few seconds before calling his name again, knowing he was too busy watching something on the telly and completely ignoring my calls.

"John, get over here!" I yelled.

After a few more seconds, the door opened aggressively. "What the hell do ya want?"

"I need your help." I said.

"Do you not know me at all, Harrison?" John asked.

"Really, John. I need your help on something."

"What is it?"

"Close the door." I told him.

"If you're goin' to go queer on me, I swear to God..."

"Just close the fuckin' door!" I ordered.

"Ok, ok." He said, as he closed the door. "What's the matter?"

"It's Paul. I... I just can't stand him anymore!" I said.

"Your precious Paul? The one you could trust with every little shite that came to mind just a few days ago?" John rolled his eyes. "Teenagers..."

"Be serious, John! All I asked is for a bit of help and all you give me is your stupid smart shit!" I said in annoyance.

He smiled. "'Stupid smart shit'? Does that even make sense?"

I glared at him. "Help me or get the fuck out."

"Christ, George. What's wrong with you?"

"That's what I'm trying to tell you! Paul's being a total arse, telling me I can't have Lori 'cause he wants her!" I said.

"So?" He asked.

"So, he's being a jerk! This isn't fair for me. She doesn't even like him." I explained.

"Well, don't let him have her then. He doesn't need her, he practically has birds beggin' for him. He can manage." John said.

"I know. But he's saying I'm 'stabbing him in the back' for taking Lori away from him." I told him. As I explained the story to John, I couldn't even handle the anger I was feeling now. Whatever pleases him, I'll do it. But I won't give him Lori. I won't give him what I want and finally have, just so he could be happy.

"Bullshit. He never had her in the first place." John said as he grabbed a half full bottle of beer from the top of the nightstand next to him.

"That's exactly what I was thinking." I looked down at the floor. "But I don't want to hurt him, John. Y'know? He really likes her..." I said, quietly.

"Don't be such a pussy, George. So what if he really likes her? You're the one with the better chance, right? You're the one she chose. I'm well aware that you two were together last night and he is, too. She wanted to be with you, right? Well, he's just gonna 'ave to accept that. Whether he wants to or not. No pleasing shit in this situation. He doesn't need to be pleased. He needs to be a man and take the truth." He drank his beer as I stared at him in disbelief. Had that really come out of John Lennon's mouth? He was actually helpful in the situation? Actually being wise, no jokes or anything? I almost passed out from the shock.

Apparently, he saw this too. "What? Not 'stupid-smart' enough for ya?" He stood up. "You're welcome." He said and walked out the door.

I sat there, taking in what he had just said. He was right. I shouldn't have to please him, he doesn't need it. And what happened to Dot? Wasn't he just with her last week? Paul was probably in another room, planning some twisted plot to sabotage this situation and leave me with nothing, as always. Did I care? No. Was I going to give him what he wanted? No. Was I going to be the one in control for once? Why yes, thank you. He's gonna be pissing himself when he sees me, the little kid who used to follow him and John home, winning Lori over.

I walked out of the room and heard voices in the kitchen. I walked in and found John and Paul sitting, talking, and drinking tea like they were before the matter between Paul and I had started. And I hope to God John didn't mention anything that was said a few minutes earlier.

"George, we're goin' to leave for the studio in a few, ya need to get your guitar." John said through sips of his tea.

I nodded and looked at Paul. "Need I get yours too, now?" I asked. Not that I was actually going to do it, of course.

"No." He simply answered, giving me a look of complete hatred.

I walked out and went over to where my guitar was sitting when the phone began to ring beside me. "John, phone!" I yelled to the kitchen.

"Pick it up, lazy arse!" He yelled back. That was expected.

"Hello?" I said, answering the call.

"Hi George!" Greeted Lori from the other line, as though hoping for me to pick up.

"Lori, how are you?" I asked, now glad I had picked up the phone.

"Very well, thanks." How lovely her voice was... "I was calling to see what time you lads were leaving so I could come along, if ya don't mind."

"Not at all. Just be over quickly, we're leaving soon." I answered. She hung up the phone before another word. I grabbed my guitar and sat down to tune it. Just as I had finished, a knock came at the door.

"Do me the favor, ey George?" John said from the kitchen. I quickly sat up and ran to the door, opening it to find a very lovely girl in front of me. "Hello."

"Hello." She smiled.

"Come in, I insist." I smiled as well, letting her by. John and Paul appeared then, with the instruments in their hands.

"I 'ad a feelin' it would be you. Let's go, we're going to be fuckin' late." John said, running by me out the door and handing me my guitar in the process.

I followed him and into his 'borrowed' car. The car ride was pretty much the same as when we first went to George Martin's office. This trip was longer, however, and I was forced to sit next to Paul while John and Lori rode in the front. He just leaned against the window, watching the other cars and people passing by. I was silent throughout the whole thing, not wanting to get in Paul's way. I don't want another fight erupting between us, not with all this tension. Instead, I played with the guitar pick in my hands.

Paul didn't look over at me once. A terrible feeling came to me at that moment. What if this was the end of our friendship? I've been best mates with the guy next to me for years and now we acted like complete enemies all for a girl. I started thinking about the times we used to ride the bus to and from school together, talking about God knows what. I smiled for a second then, as quickly as it came, it disappeared. I really didn't want to end my friendship with Paul. This whole situation was to get what I wanted for once in my life. Why did it all feel so wrong?

_**~ Hope you liked it. I know it's kind of bad, though. But I did have fun doing this in George's POV. I love him! I'll be updating soon and I promise Ringo will be in the next chapter, for all you many Ringo lovers out there :) Tell me what you think, I love reviews! ~**_


	9. Chapter 9

Beautiful. Just fucking beautiful. Not only is this probably the most important day of their god damn lives but it's the absolute most important day of _my _life, as well. What the fuck are they trying to do? Ruin this for me? Oh yes, that's it. They're trying to ruin this day for me. No, no. This will not pass. Fucking arseholes, can't figure out their own differences.

I looked back at those two wankers, who didn't even dare to look at each other. If they don't settle things out, God help their sorry little...

"The road, John." Lori said calmly, studying her nails. I sighed and turned back. To think all of this was about the girl sitting next to me, having no idea what's going on between those two. Oh this was absolutely hysterical.

After a couple more minutes of driving and silence, I decided to have a little fun with all of this...

"So, uh, Paulie. Tell me, darling, what's on your mind?" I said in the most motherly voice I could manage. I smiled as I saw him shoot a dirty glance at me through the rearview mirror.

"Hmm, why such a dirty look, luv? You've been so quiet lately. I simply want to know what the situation's about." I smiled even wider as the 'dirty look' turned into a death stare. George joined in afterwards. Oh fabulous!

"Nothing." He said quietly as he turned back to the window he was currently so interested in.

I narrowed my eyes. "George, would you happen to know about any of this? You're awfully quiet, too." He shook his head and continued to play with his stupid guitar pick.

"Lori," I said. That did the trick, they both looked up immediately. "Do you so happen to have an idea of what's going on?" I asked.

She shook her head. "I didn't know there was even a problem."

"Are you blind, sweetheart? These two are obviously fighting 'bout _something._ Too bad I have no clue what it is..." I continued smiling.

She turned to face them. "What's the matter?" Lori asked. Neither of them answered. They just stared at her like retards.

"Well? Aren't you goin' to say somethin'?" I asked, annoyed.

"No." Paul answered.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Yep."

"Really?"

"Uh huh."

"So there's nothing you would like to tell Lori and I?"

"Nope."

"Stupid gits." I muttered. Agh! Always ruining my fun.

I decided to give it a rest and continue driving in silence. I secretly wished that this argument would get intense and end up in blows. That would be rather entertaining, wouldn't it? I suppose I shouldn't worry about this too much, however, since they will most likely make up by the end of the day. I tried to take my mind off of them as I thought of what Cyn was doing at that moment.

Soon enough, we arrived at the studio. We quickly got out of the car and into the building, meeting George Martin and Brian Epstein, 'Eppy', inside. With them was none other than Ringo Starr, who was practicing his beloved instrument. I walked up to the short lad, studying his way of drumming. You've got to be shittin' me if you think this kid is better than Pete.

"What's this Martin fellow on? They sound exactly the same." I whispered at Paul.

"Look at his style of drumming, John. They're not the same. Give Ringo a break." He whispered back. I rolled my eyes. _'Give Ringo a break'._ Oh so we're all saints now!

I watched him drum some more until he finished and looked up at us. "Paul and John! How are you? Haven't seen you in ages!" He said happily.

"We're doin' fine, Richie. How are you?" Paul asked.

"Not so bad. Happy to be working with you all, to be honest." He smiled.

"Oh yeah, we're happy to be working with you, too. Right John?" Paul asked, looking over at me.

"Yeah." I said plainly. It's not like I hate Ringo, because I don't. But he's supposed to be a part of a completely different band. I don't want one of me best mates gettin' kicked out of a band that I promised we'd make it big with, which included him when we did. Now, magically, he gets booted out because a bloody record producer says so? Bull. Shit.

Ringo smiled and turned back to Paul, telling him about Rory and the way he acted when he told him about leaving the band. I left that conversation, deciding I didn't care for what he had to say about that.

"Oh God..." George said as he sat down and picked up his guitar.

"Yes?" I asked jokingly, sitting next to him.

"Shut the fuck up, John." George snapped.

"Ouch," I said sarcastically, putting a hand over my chest. "That hurt, George. It really did."

"You're such an arse."

"And why is that?" I asked as I pulled out a cigarette and a lighter from pocket.

"Don't act stupid. You know why."

"Is it because I wouldn't toss you off last week? I told you, George. I'm not like that..." George pushed me, making me almost fall over, as I laughed.

"There you go again!" George said, anger building up.

"Jesus, Geo. It's only a joke." I rolled my eyes as I took a puff from my smoke.

"It was also a joke when you started talking about the situation between me and Paul. Why am I not laughin'? Because it's not fucking funny!"

"_Paul and I." _I corrected him. He always hates that.

"I'm not amused, ya grammar Nazi." He said.

"Lighten up, kid. I just wanted to make the whole thing a little less painful, y'know? You two were being such bastards, actin' like you two hated each other."

"After our 'talk', I might as well." George took a cigarette himself and lit it. "Because he's a fucking arsehole, bastard, stupid, queer, good-for-nothing little bitch who thinks he owns the entire fuckin' wor-"

"Wait," I interrupted. "If you're insulting your best mate like that for a _girl_ I swear I will shoot myself in the face."

"It's not just a girl, John." He answered.

I turned around and looked at Lori. "Eh, she seems like a girl to me. Unless she's not telling me something..."

"John, shutup. It's much more than just Lori."

"Oh really?" I said.

George nodded. "Every time I have something he wants, he expects me to just give it to him. As if I can't have anything until it's alright with him. We went through this before, John."

"Hmm," I stood up. "Well, you guys need to sort things out. Your attitudes are depressing the shit outta me."

"John!" George Martin called from the other side of the room.

"Yes?" I said as I walked over to him.

"Can I please have a tape of some of the songs you and your band have recorded?" He asked politely.

"Uh, yeah." I responded as I dug into the pocket on my jeans. After pulling out my glasses and a few sheets of paper, I gave him the tape, smiled, and casually walked away. I looked around and sat on the floor against the wall, looking through the bits of paper I found. One was a reminder to be at aunt Mimi's house by 3.30 pm on Friday another was a little tune I wrote down but was too lazy to finish.

There was also a picture of Cynthia I took one day at school. My God, she looked beautiful. I miss that girl so much, it's been days since I've last seen her. Paul says I think about her too much, that she's only a stupid bird I will probably dump for another sooner or later. Jealous fool. I studied the picture, smiling at seeing her sweet smile, and wondering when I could possibly deliver those letters I wrote for her.

"Who's that?" Someone asked from in front of me.

I looked up to find Ringo, staring down at the picture I held. "A girl." I answered.

"What girl?" He said, smiling nicely.

"What's it to ya?" I asked, dryly.

"Just askin'." He shrugged. I sighed and looked back down.

"She your girlfriend?" He asked.

"Yeah."

"She's very pretty." Ringo smiled again.

"Isn't she?" I smiled too.

He nodded. "She probably goes for the musicians, all the good lookin' birds do."

"Do they go after you a lot?" I asked.

"Sometimes. But hey, they might not be that into drummers. It's either that or the extra twenty pounds I'm carrying on me face." He said, pointing to his nose. We both laughed. Maybe this wasn't going to be so bad, after all...

**~I hope you enjoyed it. John never disliked Ringo, so don't think this was accurate, haha. I also wanted to throw in a few John/Cynthia bits in there. I thought they made the cutest couple. :) Thank you all for the lovely reviews, it's what makes me want to write more! Keep them coming!~**


	10. Chapter 10

I walked around aimlessly for a while, uninterestedly studying the objects around me. I couldn't help but wonder what John was talking about when he said Paul and George were obviously fighting. What could they be fighting about? It couldn't include me, could it?

The more I pondered the idea, the more I thought about the night George spent at my house. Could Macca be upset over that? No, I doubt he found out about it himself since he was probably having 'fun' that night screwing around with those girls. And there wasn't any reason for him to be mad. It's not like George and I _did _anything while he was there. I'm not that kind of person. Plus, it would be rather awkward. But I can't help but wonder...

No, I'm probably over thinking the entire thing. George might have taken Paul's last pack of ciggie's and he probably got all pissy about it. That wouldn't surprise me. They're most likely going to be fine tomorrow and everything would be back to normal.

The band began to play and I watched Ringo silently, trying to get accustomed to the newest member. I looked over at George and smiled, which he happily returned. This continued on for a while, them playing and Eppy, George Martin, and I observing. By the look on Mr. Martin's face, he seemed impressed. After the rehearsal, we said our goodbyes and John set a date for when they would return and begin recording a few tracks.

"I want to sit up front with you, John." Paul said suddenly.

"Do you?" John asked, apparently amused. "Why's that?"

Paul shrugged. "Dunno. I just do."

"Any particular reason, McCartney?"

"No, _Lennon_, no particular reason. I just want to sit up fucking front!" Paul said.

"Fine, be my guest." John looked over at me. "You ok sitting back there with George? I know it's a drag and all but..."

"It's fine." I answered as I got into the backseat. Paul mumbled something, but I couldn't quite make it out. George gave me a welcoming smile as I got in, but we kept quiet throughout the entire trip. I would've made a conversation but the fact that Paul wanted to move to the front had my head spinning. Why had he done that? Was it true that they were fighting? Was it really that serious?

We got back to John's house faster than I expected. I was too busy with all these damned questions, time just flew by. Once we got into the house, John, George, and I flopped down on the couch, lack of sleep obviously showing for the lads. Paul went over to the kitchen and silently got a beer.

"Well, boys, we're halfway there. Next week we'll be recording some of our songs. I don't know about you, but this is a fuckin' dream come true for yours truly." John said as he put his hands behind his head and relaxed.

"I can hardly believe it." George said. "It's happening."

"Sure is, Georgie, sure is."

The phone began to ring beside me and I picked up the receiver. "Hello?"

"Hello, Lori!" Greeted John's mother from the other line. "Haven't seen you in ages, dear!"

"Hi, Julia. How are you?" I looked at John, who gave me a pleading look. _Don't tell her about the car_, he mouthed, giving me a few hand signals as he did. I nodded.

"Oh I'm fine. Busy, busy." Julia answered.

"Not so different over here, to be honest." I said.

"Hmm, is John home?" she asked.

"Yes he is. Would you like to speak to him?"

"I'd love to, thanks."

"Alright."

I handed John the phone, who took it with a sigh. "What is it, mum?" He asked.

I leaned over to George and whispered, "Is it alright if I use your room for a while?"

George nodded. "Go ahead."

I smiled and stood up as I heard John getting into a small argument over Mimi's car that John wasn't supposed to be using.

I went inside the room and closed the door. I had a perfect idea for a song in my head, all I needed were a few words and chords to go along with it. I picked up John's guitar, hoping he wouldn't mind, a piece of paper and a pen.

I hummed the tune that was cemented in my head for a while now, and began to make up a few words. I wrote down a few lines but quickly scratched it out, nothing good coming to mind. This went on for quite a while.

"Oh this can't be that hard." I thought aloud. "Let's see," I began to play around with it a bit. "You got your G cord right here. It's like your cozy house where you live. That's where you start your journey. Here I am in my house, nice and cozy. And then you poke your head out the door with a C cord. Everything looks ok out here, maybe I'll take a walk outside to the D cord. Oh, walking around outside, look at all the stuff out here. Then we go to an A minor. Getting a little cloudy out here, lookin' like we might have some weather. Then we go to E minor. Oh, definitely got some weather, things are more complicated then they seem at first. Then we go back to my house!!" I laughed and heard someone joining me from behind. I turn around to see John leaning against the door, a very amused expression on his face.

"Nice song you got there." He said.

"I know, right?" I said, jokingly.

"Oh yes. We've got some competition now, yeah?"

"Right." I smiled.

"Listen, we ran out of beer here. Apparently Julia doesn't like to update her refrigerator for her own son. We're gonna go buy some. Wanna come?" John asked.

I shrugged. "No thanks. I'll stay here, keep an eye on things."

"Fine. I'll see you later." He walked out his bedroom door and, once I heard the lads leave and the front door close, I stood up and put away the guitar and pen. I crumpled up the now scribbled over piece of paper and headed for the garbage can. I hummed the tune still stuck in my head as I made my way through the small, empty house. Or so I thought.

I was surprised by Paul sitting down at the table in the kitchen, drinking tea.

"'Lo." He greeted.

"What are you doin' here? I thought you went with the others." I said, grabbing myself a cup and pouring in some tea.

He shrugged. "Didn't feel like it."

"Oh." I said, as I leaned against the table.

"What? Did you want me to go?" He asked.

"No, well, I dunno. I'm just surprised that you didn't go, that's all."

He nodded and looked down at the table.

"So, uh, what happened to you today? Why were you in such a fussy mood?"I asked him.

"I wasn't in a fussy mood. I'm just a bit pissed off, that's all." He answered.

"Is that right?" I said. "Something having to do with George, perhaps?"

He looked up. "How do you know?"

"I'm not stupid, Paul. John brought up something about you two fighting. It didn't come to my attention till then, and now I'm sure you two are in some kind of row."

"No, you're not stupid." He stood up to face me. "And it doesn't matter what goes on between George and I, anyway." He got closer. And closer. Too close for my liking. But as I stepped back, he just got close again.

"Really?" I said, still stepping back until I hit the wall behind me. And Paul just got closer.

"Uh huh. Y'know, George can be a sweetheart when he wants to but inside he's just a cold bastard." Paul said.

"I don't believe that." I told him. "I never will."

"Well, believe it, luv." He said. Our noses were only a few inches apart and this was becoming extremely uncomfortable.

"How 'bout you step back a bit?" I asked him, trying to be polite and not stir up any more problems.

"How 'bout you just relax?" I felt him put his hand on my shoulders and then moved down to my waist.

I quickly grabbed his hands and shoved him away from me. "And how 'bout you get your filthy hands off of me?!" I yelled at him. I left the kitchen and headed back over to John and George's room.

"Lori, wait. I'm sorry!" Paul apologized as he followed behind me. But I didn't want to talk to him, or even look at him. If he wanted to learn the hard way that it's not _him _that I want, then God knows he will.

I went inside the room, Paul right behind me, and slammed the door in his face.

_**~I know, this was complete crap. I was really tired but I felt I had to update. I hope you enjoyed it either way. Please review! Oh and anyone have suggestions?~**_


	11. Chapter 11

Paul knocked on the door. "Lori...I'm really sorry...Please..."

Once again, I ignored him. Like I have been for the past fifteen minutes.

"Can we please just talk about this? I'll keep my hands to myself, I promise." He continued. I simply sat on the bed, arms crossed, as I listened to his pathetic words from the other side of the door.

"All I want to do is talk. Just...just open the door." He knocked again. He waited a few minutes. "Lori! I said I was sorry! You can't ignore me forever!"

I clenched my fists and stood up. I opened the door and stood face to face with him. "Who says I can't?"

He blinked. "Lori, will you please forgive me? I'll do anything..." He looked at the floor then looked up at me with those long, feminine eyelashes. "Just forgive me."

I sighed and walked past him, back to the kitchen. "I'll forgive you Paul but I won't understand why you would have the nerve to put your dirty little hands on me."

He gave a frustrated sigh. Ha! As if _he _were the one to be frustrated! "I dunno. I just... I think you're such a great girl. I really like you, Lori. But I understand. I mean, why would someone like you want to be with someone like _me_?" That last word was said in absolute disgust.

This had to be some sort of joke. And yet I couldn't help feel sorry for him. What if he really did think like that? But then again, he was conceited as hell. Nothing made sense anymore.

"Paul! Why would you think that?" I walked over to him. "You're smart, you're funny, you're gorgeous. And not to mention you get all the birds around here. You shouldn't think like that." I reassured him.

"Why don't you like me, then?"

"Because..." I sighed and turned away from him. "It's complicated."

"How? Didn't you just say the three things girls most look for in a guy?" He asked.

"Yes but..."

"But what? What the fuck does _Harrison _havethat I don't? What does he do that makes you attracted to _him _and not me?!" He practically yelled.

"Why do you have to be so fuckin' jealous of him, Paul? Why can't you just accept the fact I like him more tha-"

"You didn't answer my question!"

"You want an answer? Fine. George doesn't act like some spoiled, smartass bitch all the time. He doesn't interfere in a situation where he doesn't belong. He's a much better person than you are, Paul. And that's how it's always been!"

He just stared at me. "Why would you possibly think that?"

"I don't think it. I know it. And that's why he will always appeal to me more than you _ever _will." I told him.

And there I saw it. A mixture of pain and surprise in those big, hazel eyes. I suddenly regretted every word I had just said to him.

He looked down almost immediately. "Oh." He whispered.

"Paul, I didn't mean..."

"No, I get it." He left the kitchen immediately, leaving me standing in a pile of regret.

* * *

I had to leave. I had to get away from her as fast as I could. I didn't want to talk. And I most importantly didn't want her to see my reaction to her words. I felt pain, anger, disappointment. Everything that one could possibly feel in a situation like this.

Being kind and caring to her didn't work, putting my hands on her certainly didn't work, and my attempt at having her feel pity towards me was pathetic. I didn't know _what_ to do. The things she said were devastating. Heart-breaking.

_How could I have been so stupid?_

_* * *_

"Woah! Is it just me or is it awfully quiet in this place?" John yelled as soon as he walked through the door. Lori was sitting at the table, quietly drinking her tea. "Who died?" He asked, setting down his keys. Her dismal expression didn't change so John shrugged and stepped out of the room.

"What happened?" I asked, sitting down beside her. It didn't take a genius to see the dreadful look on her face.

She simply shrugged. "I dunno."

"Oh." I looked down. The last thing I want to do is get her annoyed by asking anymore questions. We just sat there as I studied my nails on the table.

After a few minutes I decided to tell her what I've been wanting to the entire trip home with John. "I have a surprise for you."

She quickly looked up at me. "Oh?"

I nodded and took her hand, helping her stand up. "I dunno if you're into this stuff, but I think you'll like it."

"What is it, George?" She asked as I pulled her hand out the door, obviously sounding intrigued.

"You'll see."

We got into John's car, which I hope he wouldn't mind me borrowing, and took off. It wasn't too far away, I made sure of it. It only took a few minutes to reach the destination. Once there, I took Lori by the hand again and started walking through the many trees and branches in the way.

"What is this? A forest?" She asked, puzzled.

"Sort of. For now, anyway." I kept leading her by the hand, until I knew we were there. We went past a few trees more, revealing a place of beauty and peace. "Now, we're here." I said, smiling.

Her face showed great delight, completely different from the face she had only moments before. "Where are we?" She asked, looking around.

"It's some place John showed me. He used to come here to write songs and play guitar and stuff. It's nice, isn't it?" The area was a pleasant sight. It was like a hill, full of bright green grass and flowers of almost ever color imaginable. It gave me a sense of tranquility and magnificence, I felt I needed to show it to Lori.

"It's gorgeous." She told me. We walked a little bit further and laid down on the grass. She picked up a flower, twirling it around with her fingers.

I looked at her beside me and took her hand. "Do you like it?"

"I love it."

"I'm glad." We laid there for a few minutes and I closed my eyes. It was all so perfect.

"George?"

"Hmm?"

"What would you do if you had feelings for a person but you knew that, by liking them, you were hurting someone else?"

"I would go with the person I want and the other one would have to just suck it up and leave me the fuck alone."

"Really?"

"Yes."

Lori sighed. "Ok."

"Because," I continued sitting up. "I might miss out on someone I really love. Why would I want that?"

And I leaned down and kissed her once again.

_**~I wrote this one specifically for George's birthday (February 25), and I felt I needed to update the story on the exact day. So here it is. I hope you enjoyed it and please comment. Happy 67th, George!~**_


	12. Chapter 12

_Knock, knock._

I swung open the door, smiling as I saw Paul on the other side. "Hi! What brings you here?"

"I need to talk to you, Richie." Paul looked completely pissed off as he stood at the door.

"What's the matter?" I said seriously now, letting him inside.

"Fuckin' Harrison, that's what's the matter!" He shouted, stomping his feet as he walked.

"George?" I asked, confused by the subject. Why would Paul possibly be angry with George? They seemed fine the other day…

"Yes, do you know any other Harrison 'round the damned place, Ringo?" He replied rather harshly. I looked down at the floor, not wanting to upset him anymore.

He sighed. "I'm sorry, Richie. I'm just so fuckin'…" He shut his eyes tight and inhaled, trying to calm himself down. His face was red and so were his eyes, as if he had been crying. But that was impossible. This was Paul, remember?

"Why are you so mad at him?" I asked quietly.

"Because he…," Paul walked over to the couch and sat. I watched him, not knowing what to say. "Nah, it's too complicated."

"So, you came all the way over here, more pissed off then I've ever seen ye, just so you can tell me you can't explain the whole thing?" I didn't get it. What the hell gave him the right to do this? _Fuck it, I don't even care, _He thought. _Wait, no,_ _this is your fuckin' band mate, Richard, you _have _to care. It's your responsibility, dammit!_

"I'm sorry, Rings. I didn't mean to bother you. I just needed someone to talk to." Now he went from looking like he was going to murder someone to looking slightly depressed.

"Well, if you tell me the problem then maybe I can help you" I told him.

He sighed again. "You know Lori, right? That girl that came with us to the audition?"

"The brunette with the long hair and nice legs?" I said.

"That's the one." Paul answered.

"What about her?"

"George likes her. A lot." He said.

"And?"

"And I like her. A lot."

"So what? Are you two in some sort of row for a bird?" George and Paul didn't seem like the type of lads to fight over some girl. But, then again, love does some pretty fucked up things to good people. His silence gave me the answer to that question.

"Paul, ye know that's bleedin' stupid." I informed him.

"It's not." He said.

"Uh, yeah, it kind of is. Think about it."

"Well you don't know the whole story."

"Then fucking tell it to me, Paul!" I yelled.

"But I told you, it's complicated!" He yelled back.

I sighed in frustration. I knew he wasn't telling me the entire story because he didn't want to tell me a certain something. But that was only my guess. I'm terrible at making inferences about people's behaviors. Why would he do that anyway?

"Ok, so all I know is that you two are in a fight over a girl and that, as thick as it fuckin' sounds, it means a lot to you, right?"

He nodded.

"Well then fuck it. Work it out, it can't be that hard. I mean ye seem really pissed off over this whole damned situation. It's not even worth it."

"But you don't understand, Richie. He _stole_ her from me." Paul said, saying the sentence with such disgust I couldn't help but believe him, even though this was _George _we were talking about after all.

"You're kidding."

He shook his head.

"You two were together and he just stole her?" I asked in shock.

"Well…" He began, looking down at the floor again, "Uh, yeah. We were together and he stole her." Paul said.

"But that's not right. George couldn't have stolen someone else's girl..." I said in shock.

"Well he did! She was _mine _and he stole her!"

"I don't believe it." I answered simply. That didn't sound like George at all, not the way I knew him. Sweet, shy, caring George Harrison stealing girls from other men? That's insane.

"Well believe it, Rings. He's a fuckin' bastard." Paul took out a ciggie from his coat pocket and handed me one. I took it gratefully and he lit it. We smoked in silence.

After a few minutes I decided to go a bit farther with the subject. "Did you just find out?"

"No, I've known for a while now, jus' happened last week I think." He answered lazily.

"How'd you find out?" I asked.

"John. He said George drove her home the night before and returned real late that night."

"Did they have sex?" I asked directly. Might as well see if George really is _that _much of a bastard.

"They did." He replied through clenched teeth.

"Do you know that for sure?" I asked.

He shrugged. "No."

"Do you know for sure if they even kissed?"

"No." He repeated.

I thought for a moment. "Well then you have no proof that they actually did anything. They could've just been talkin' and lost track of time…"

"Oh get real, Ringo! George is so desperate for sex; he'd fuck a dying walrus if he had to. You should've seen him at the Cavern a few weeks ago. That fucker was dying to shag one of those sluts that hang around there, drooling over us as if we were Gods of some sort. Not that I mind, of course. Funny thing is he didn't even get a single bird to let him buy her a drink. They all came runnin' to me, as you can imagine." He laughed. "Stupid git." His eyes and tone had an evident sense of hatred in them. I couldn't bring myself to believe all of that came out of Paul McCartney's mouth. This lad, who I believed was one of the most polite people I have ever met and fit with a charming personality, was saying these types of things. And most importantly about his best friend.

I silently looked at him, opening my mouth several times but saying nothing. He looked at me, at his cigarette, then back at me. It stayed like that for quite a while and it drove me insane. Thankfully, the doorbell rung just then, saving us from more of the deafening silence that currently had filled the room. I walked over to the door and opened it, only to find a miserable-looking John on the other side.

_Fabulous! _I thought, _Another one to ruin my day! _

"What is it John?"

"I-I did something stupid, Ringo" He said. "Really, really fucking stupid."

~_**I hope you enjoyed it. I really hate making Paul so evil but I needed an antagonist in this thing so might as well be him.**_ _**Comment please!~**_


	13. Chapter 13

_**Kind of short, sorry.**_

"What did you do?" I asked, worried about what trouble the lad could've possibly gotten into this time.

He let himself through the door and began pacing around the room. "I..."

"John, you can tell me." I said to him.

I waited for his response, but it didn't come. "John?"

He looked pale and nervous but he didn't say a word. I decided to let him be, knowing he'll tell me when he's ready. But, as he stepped into the room, I could tell that Paul had other plans.

"Tell us what the fuck you did!" He yelled, standing from his place on the sofa and towards the stunned looking guitarist.

John looked at Paul quickly, a confused expression on his face. He obviously didn't know he was here, but I don't think he cared. "It's Cynthia," he began. He paused for a second, his shoes suddenly becoming the most interesting thing in the room.

"What about her?" I asked.

"I hit her." He finally answered.

"You _hit _her?!" I asked, shocked. Wasn't it just yesterday that John told me how much he loved the girl? I really need to begin to understand John Lennon better.

"Oh good, John. You reached a new low. Want a medal?" Paul said, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"Why the fuck are you here?! I wanted to talk to Ringo, not you!" John said, clenching his fists.

Paul held up his hands in defense. "I'm joking, alright? No need to take out your damn anger on me!"

"Ok, stop it!" I said, standing in between the two. The last thing I wanted is for all this ending up in blows. "Now, John, why did you hit her?"

He visibly calmed down a bit and stepped back from Paul. "I saw her with that Sutcliffe guy. Someone told me they were dancin' together or something. I told her before to stay away from other lads but she just doesn't fuckin' listen to me!"

"So what? You hit her because of _that_?" Paul said.

"Yeah. I went up to her, gave her a good smack on that pretty little face and left."

I didn't understand any of this. It wasn't like she was cheating on him, right? Like Lori with Paul or whatever the problem was with him. Dammit, why couldn't they just all have been single? Life would be much easier on me.

"The problem is," he continued, looking back down at the floor. "She refuses to talk to me at all."

"John," I went up to him and placed my hand on his back. "It's gonna be alright, y'know. You just gotta work things out with her, that's all."

"What am I supposed to say, Ringo? 'I know I smacked the shit outta ya, but I want ya to come back'?" he said. "You're daft if you think that's actually going to work."

"Just say sorry. Hopefully she'll forgive you." I said.

"And what if she doesn't?" he closed his eyes and sighed. "What am I going to do?"

"Grab yourself a new bird." Paul suggested.

"I'm not getting another bird, Paul!" John said.

Paul shrugged. "Yeah, you're right. Same thing's gonna happen with her, anyway."

John gave him the death stare.

"What do you think, Rings? Should he just get a new girl to shag or what?" Paul said, now looking at me.

I shrugged. "I dunno. If things don't work out with Cynthia then..."

"See, Ringo agrees with me."

"Even if you do get a new girl, John, you shouldn't do that just 'cause you're jealous of who she's with. You know what they say, jealousy killed the cat."

"I thought that was curiosity?" Paul said.

"Well, that too."

"Will you two be fuckin' serious!" John yelled.

"Face it, John. You're a wicked guy, born with a jealous mind." Paul said, smoking another ciggie against the wall. "You're not gonna change."

"You're just asking me to fuckin' cripple you, yeah?" John said.

"Alright, listen," I began. "Call her up, say you were a bastard-"

"Yeah, don't forget that part," Paul said.

John flicked him in the head. "Shurrup!"

"Ow!"

"_AND_," I said, trying to stop the bickering for once. "Beg for her forgiveness."

John thought about this for a moment. "Alright, fine. I'll apologize."

"Yeah, 'cause I know that's hard for ya, Johnny." Paul said.

"I hope you're right about this, Ringo." John said, ignoring the bassist.

"I'm always right." I lied, proudly.

Paul rolled his eyes. "Leave now, John?"

"You should be the one leaving, Paulie. You're giving Ringo shit over here, I bet." John snapped. Right he was.

"Sod off, I'm not."

"You're probably over here whinin' about your fuckin' Harrison problems." Ah, so John knew about this whole situation, too.

"I'm not whining."

"Oh yeah, because Macca here never whines about _anything_!" John exclaimed sarcastically.

Paul narrowed his eyes. "You're such an arse, John."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, son."

"You're pathetic!" Paul insulted.

"You won't be saying that when my fist meets your face, McCartney."

"That's it, both of you out!" I screamed, forcefully opening to door. I couldn't take enough of their stupid fighting.

"But-" Paul began but I cut him off. "Out." I said, pointing outside the door.

John stepped out and Paul followed silently, surprised at my sudden outburst.

As they were about to apologize, I slammed the door and walked over to the couch where Paul was sitting. I plopped down on it and sighed. Peace at last.

_**~ I love comments :) ~**_


	14. Chapter 14

"That was beautiful, George." I told him, arriving at John's house. I held his hand as we entered.

"I know. We have to go there more often, don't you think?" He said. I nodded.

"John! Paul!" George yelled, but silence was the only thing that followed. He looked around. "Where do you think they went?"

I shrugged. "I dunno." I sat down on the couch and crossed my legs. No wonder everything was a lot less tense, Paul wasn't there.

I hadn't forgotten about Paul for the past two hours. I kept replaying the scene over and over in my head, not of the 'incident' but of the things I said to him. I was starting to become worried, maybe I had upset him so much that he had to leave. But I soon dismissed the idea thinking he would be fine once he got over it.

"Have you talked to Paul?" George asked.

"Yeah."

"Oh," he walked along the room, nervously studying Julia's wall paintings and decorations. "What did he say?"

I hesitated for a moment, not wanting to mention anything that had happened while he was gone. "Nothing, why?"

He shrugged. "I dunno I just wanted to know if he mentioned anything about me."

"Err," I thought about how jealous Paul had sounded a few hours ago. How terribly confused he was that I had picked George over him. "No, he didn't mention you."

"He didn't?" George sounded surprised, like he expected Paul to be talking about him all the time.

"Uh, no." I told him. "We barely talked that much though." Well, that was partially true.

"Oh. Well 'cause, you know, we're in this row and stuff so I just thought..." He trailed off, still studying the house as if he hadn't been there a million times before.

"Yeah, Paul mentioned that..."

George turned to me quickly. "He did?!"

I nodded. "But he didn't tell me what it was about though."

"Good."

"Good?"

"Yeah, good."

"So, I suppose you're not going to tell me either?"

He shook his head, no.

"Why not?" I asked, feeling offended. Does no one want to tell me anything anymore?

"Because you don't need to know." He said calmly.

"Yes I do! I wanna help you guys."

"See there's the problem," he came over and sat beside me. "You can't."

"And why's that?"

"You ask a lot of questions, y'know."

"George, please! This whole thing is screwing everything up! You two can't even look at each other anymore, when just a couple of days ago you two were playing music together and laughing and talking an-"

I was automatically silenced when his lips met mine and I let my thoughts about those two slip away. So, we sat there and kissed. We didn't even notice when the front door opened.

John whistled. "Get a room, 'ey?"

George and I stopped and laughed, looking at John. But I turned serious when I saw the man frozen behind him, the hurting expression I had witnessed for only a split second before, was back on his face. I looked over at George, who was also looking at Paul and smiling.

"Hey Macca," John began as he went into the kitchen. "You never told me why you were at Richie's in the first place."

Paul's gaze was now set to the floor. "Don't worry about it."

"Oh c'mon, Paulie. Don't be such a-"

"I said don't worry about it!" He yelled as he went over to his room and slammed the door.

"Woah," John said as he went out of the kitchen, holding a beer. "What's got 'is knickers in a twist?"

George shrugged. "Who knows."

_Oh, I know. And so does he._

I sat there in silence as George stood up and joined John in the kitchen. Should I talk to Paul? Should I apologize, or just let him get over it? What if he doesn't get over it? What if he'll hate me forever and, in turn, hate George too? If he didn't already, that is. I didn't have a single idea as to what to do and, unfortunately for me, it worried me more than it should've.

* * *

"You two were over at Ringo's house?" George asked me as I took a sip from my beer.

I nodded. "Yep."

"Why?"

"I dunno why that wanker was over there but I just needed someone to talk to about a...problem of mine." Fuck. I suddenly remembered I had to call Cynthia.

"A problem of yours? I thought you barely liked Ringo." George said.

"I never said that."

"Uh, yeah you did."

"Well, I trust him now, alright? God, get off a guys back, will you?" I said in annoyance.

"Alright, sorry." He got a beer for himself and began to drink. "So, what'd you do this time?" He asked through a small smile.

"It doesn't concern you, kid." I informed. George's expression turned serious. He hated being called 'kid'.

"Bastard." He said.

"Now if you'll excuse me," I began to walk away. "I'll be making a phone call."

I headed out of the kitchen and towards my room, closing the door behind me. The last thing I wanted was anyone hearing my conversation.

I picked up the phone confidently, and began to dial the precious number. Once I got to the third digit, however, I slammed it down immediately. I had no clue what to say or how the hell I was going to say it. This was not a good thing.

_Ok think Lennon, think_, I started to consider a few things I could say to her that sounded sweet, loving, and apologetic.

'_Hey Cyn. I know I'm a complete idiot and I shouldn't have done what I did but I want you to forgive me.' _No, that's not going to get me anywhere.

'_I know men find you attractive, I don't blame 'em. But-' _Nah. That's already sounding cheesy.

'_You are the love of my life, I need you. I know I was stupid but please take me back!' _God, can you say desperate? No.

'_I did it because you deserved it. You were a bitch, dancing with another guy instead of your own boyfriend!' _Oh yeah, 'cause insulting _her _is going to do any good.

'_I heard Sutcliffe was dancing with you and you know how much I hate when idiotic little fuckers like him dance with my girlfriend.'_ ...I like this one. But no, John, no. Insulting other people except for yourself is not gonna work, unfortunately.

I sighed and simply decided on, 'It was stupid of me to hit you and I'm sorry.' Yeah, that sounds decent. So, I picked up the phone and started dialing the number. Hearing the rings boosted up my confidence even more. Until...

"Hello?" I heard the sweet sound of her voice from the other line. I tried to say something, anything, but nothing came out. "Hello? Who is this? Hello?" She kept asking me.

_Idiot! Respond to her!!_

I let out a noise that sounded between a sigh and an 'uh' sound. I made a quick reminder to bang my head against the nearest brick wall when I had the chance.

"Whoever this is, it isn't funny. This whole call is costing me money." Cynthia informed, sounding annoyed.

"I-uh..."

"Ok, bye."

"WAIT!" I heard myself yell into the phone just before she hung up.

"John?" Her voice was confused as she said my name.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's John." I told her.

I could almost see her rolling her eyes as she said this, "What do you want?"

"I just wanted to..." I couldn't bring myself to say what I needed to tell her. It was eleven words I had decided on saying. Only eleven words and I couldn't remember one! This was so all so frustrating.

"What?" She asked.

I sighed, trying to find the right words. "Apologize."

"Oh you want to apologize? What good do you think that'll do?!"

"Look, Cyn. I- I'm so sorry. I know I'm stupid, I know I'm a bastard. And I can't even explain to you how much regret I feel right now. I did it because you are the only one I really love. The only person I really want in my life. And I want to feel like you think the same way. So when I see you with other guys it makes me feel like you don't. You know I can't help my feelings, I go out of my mind..." There was silence on the other line and I thought she had hung up for a moment. But I then heard a low sob in my ear and I knew she was still listening.

"So, please forgive me Cynthia. If I could take it back, I would. Believe me." I waited for a moment, hoping she could say only a word so I would know that she forgave me. But as I waited, I couldn't hear a thing. And, after a moment, I heard the dial tone. She had hung up on me.

I put down the phone, completely surprised and devastated. I sat on the bed and looked at the floor. I felt a tear run down my face and I embarrassingly wiped it away as fast as I could, humiliated that I was being such a fucking baby about this. But just the thought of Cynthia staying mad at me forever, not forgiving me after that speech I gave to her, I couldn't help myself.

"John!" I heard George call from outside. I didn't answer him, no use for him seeing me like this.

"John, come out here!" He called again.

I sat up and opened the door aggressively, stomping my way to where he was. "WHAT DO YOU WANT?!"

He pointed to the door. I turned and saw her standing there. Cynthia was looking at me, standing at the open doorway, with tears streaming down her cheeks. She didn't even bother wiping them away.

I walked over to the doorway and stood right in front of her, watching her watching me. We didn't even have to say a word. I kissed her and then took her in an embrace, so glad we had each other again. And we stayed like that for quite a while.

_**~ I'm sorry that it's been taking me forever to update. So, I made this one a bit longer to make it up to you guys. I promise the next couple of updates will be more frequent. And I really appreciate the people reading and commenting. You guys are great :) ~**_


	15. Chapter 15

When in a tough situation, you just gotta write.

And that's exactly what I did.

But as I wrote down the words, flowing like poetry and the soft melody already filling my head, I knew that this wasn't going to end up being a song of wrath and rage. No, it was going to be a love song. Because, despite everything that was done and said, I still couldn't hide the fact that I really did love her.

Once I had finished, I looked at the neat handwriting, singing along in my head, completely satisfied as to what I had done. I couldn't wait to show this to John.

_Knock, knock._

"Yeah?" I said, as I looked at the door.

"Paul, it's me." Lori called from the other side.

I quickly shoved the piece of paper into the drawer beside me. "Come in."

"Hi," she greeted as she entered the room. Sadness filled her voice and I wondered what _she_ could possibly be sad about.

"Hello."

Silence.

"How are you doing?" She finally asked after what felt like an eternity.

"Fine." I answered flatly, staring intently at the pencil in my hand.

"What were you doing?"

I shrugged. "Things."

"Things?"

"Yeah, not that you care."

"Oh,"

More silence.

"Look," Lori began as she sat down next to me. I looked up at her. "I didn't mean what I said before, alright?"

"Yes you did."

"No, I didn't. Well, not entirely anyway."

"Gee, thanks."

"Listen, Paul, I didn't mean to say all that. I couldn't stop thinking about it all day. I felt that I really hurt your feelings."

"Well you did." I told her.

"Then I'm sorry. Will you forgive me?" She asked, looking at me with an expression she knew I couldn't resist. But I resisted anyway.

"No."

"What do you mean 'no'?" Lori said, clearly offended.

"Just as it sounds, dear." I stood up and walked to the other side of the tiny room, aimlessly looking out the small window. I had no clue as to why I was being so harsh and unforgiving, but something told me I shouldn't forgive her. Not as long as she and George were still together.

"Why not?" She asked, watching me in disbelief.

"Because it's my choice to forgive you or not. So I choose not to."

"But..."

My voice came out as calm as it could possibly manage. "You asked for my forgiveness, luv. And I declined it. Get over it."

"'_Get over it_'? How ironic is it that _your _telling me to get over something!"

I didn't answer.

"Why do you have to make my life this much more difficult? You weren't like this before." Lori whispered.

"Maybe you don't know me as well as you thought."

Dreadful silence filled the room. She was right, this wasn't like me. And this was the absolute last thing I wanted to do. But if guilt was the one thing that could bring those two apart, then God knows I'll do anything to have it happen.

"It's because of George and I, isn't it?" Lori finally broke the silence. Her voice was completely emotionless.

"No." I lied.

She stood up and walked up to me. "You do understand that this is completely unfair for my part right? Just because I don't love your arse like everyone else does, you have to be such a fuckin' bastard about it!"

"Oh, cry me a river, will you?" I said. "Last time I checked, you were the one who insulted me to my face."

"I told you I was sorry!"

"Well sorry isn't good enough, ever think about that one?"

"You're being such a prick."

"I don't care. I would appreciate it if you just left me the fuck alone."

"Why are you doing this?" I could tell she was holding back tears.

I shrugged. "Because I can."

"You're an arse."

"And you're a bitch."

_SMACK._

Her hand forcefully met the side of my face. And when I finally looked up in shock, with a hand on my now red cheek, she had already exited the room.

"How sweet," I commented as I watched John and Cynthia_ still _kissing in front of me. "But can you please get a room? It's been almost 20 bleedin' minutes. And Richie's gonna be here soon, y'know. Why'd you call 'im anyway?" I asked but, of course, they ignored me as they had been for a while now.

I sighed and turned towards my room, when all of a sudden I saw Lori, her face red and tear-stained, walking rapidly towards the front entrance.

"Lori?" I said as she walked past me. She pushed John and Cynthia aside, walking out of the house as fast as possible. John gave me a look, seeming just as confused as I was.

I quickly followed her out, calling after her as she walked down the street, apparently on her way back to her house. I finally caught up to her, but she refused to look at me.

"Lori, what happened? What's the matter?" I asked her. She just continued walking, without a single glance my way. I kept following her until we reached her house. "Please, Lori. Tell me." I said but, as I was about to follow her inside, she closed the door in my face.

I knocked. "Lori, Please, let me in!" I practically begged her. There was no answer on the other side. "Lori..." I knocked again. This time, the door swung open.

"What!?" She yelled.

"What happened?" I whispered, wiping away the tears from her red cheeks.

"It doesn't matter." Lori answered, sniffing and turning away from me. I took her in my arms and hugged her. The sight of her like this was heartbreaking.

"It matters to me," I told her.

She shook her head. "This relationship, George. It's so difficult for me."

"What do you mean?" I asked, looking into her red, tear-filled eyes.

"This whole thing with..." She sighed. "It's so upsetting that one person could try to bring us apart like this. I can't stand it." She hugged me tighter and kissed my neck. "It's not fair."

And with that, I knew. I knew who this was all about, who had made her break down. The only person who was able to put her in this situation, the only one that would try everything in his power to take her away from me. The person I would _love_ to see dead right now.

I pulled away from the embrace and ran back down the street, towards Julia's place.

"George!" I heard Lori call, but I ignored her, having much more important things to take care of at the moment.

"Hey George, how are you doin'?" I heard Ringo greet from the kitchen as I stomped my way into the house. He was having some tea with John and Cynthia. But I could care less right about now and paid no attention.

"George, what's gotten into you?" John asked.

I stopped in front of Paul's room and slammed the door open, making a deafening sound as a result. He was leaning against the wall and had his head buried into his hands. He looked up at once when I entered. His mouth opened slightly for he was about to say something, but I moved much too fast to hear it. Immediately, my fist slammed into the front of his face, all the hatred I currently had for him going along with it. His head banged onto the wall behind him and he covered his nose with his hand, blood rapidly gushing from under it already. Too bad I wasn't done with him just yet.

_**~Ok I promise, my next story will not have Paul be such an awful person. 'Cause that's not very much in character. Oh well. I still love you all for reading this, even though it's probably very poorly written. Oh and thank you for posting all those wonderful comments! They just make my day :)~**_


	16. Chapter 16

"What the hell, George!" I heard John say from the entrance of the room. I stopped to look at Paul, who was now trying to wipe away some of the blood from his nose. He looked up at me almost apologetically.

"George, I..."

"Shutup!" I yelled.

"Look, I didn't mean to..."

"You know damn well you did!"

"No, just..."

"Why do you have to ruin everythingfor me?"

"George..."

"What have _I _ever done to _you?!_"

"Will you just listen to me, dammit!"

"No!" I pushed him against the wall again. He closed his eyes as his head, once again, hit the wall with a painful _thud_. "You know she'll never want you!"

When he opened his eyes, there wasn't an apologetic expression anymore. This time, there was evident anger and hurt. And the next thing I knew, his fist struck the side of my face causing a terrible surge of pain to fill my head. I wasn't completely shocked, however. I was ready for it.

Seconds later, we were at it. Punching, hitting, kicking, yelling. It reminded me of the days when we would stand at the back of the Liverpool Institute, smoking and watching kids knock each other out every few minutes. Paul and I would sit back and watch, cheering like idiots or betting on who would win this one. Never did I think that the kid next to me, my mate, would soon be involved in one of those things with _me._ But here we were, fighting like a bunch of schoolboys who despised each other and for what? For a bird? Did that seem like a good reason to fight like this? Well, frankly, I didn't care what it was about now. I just wanted to bloody kill him.

"Hey, stop it! Stop!" Ringo quickly intruded. Of course, 'Peacemaker Ringo' had to stop it all. We ignored him as the fight went on. I succeeded in powerfully hitting him in the chest but he responded by grabbing my hair and pulling me down to the floor. I kicked his leg hard, causing him to lose his balance and fall down with me. This time, John came rushing over. He grabbed me and Ringo got Paul and they began to pull us apart from each other, though we still tried to fight against it. They carried us to the kitchen and sat us down at the table.

"What's wrong with you!?" John yelled like a father scolding his child. "You two are insane!" We didn't say a word. We just sat there, looking at each other's sweaty, red, bloody faces with unmistakable hatred.

"George," Ringo began softly, walking up next to me. "What happened?"

I shrugged without saying a thing. I finally looked away from Paul and studied a random spot on the wooden table. There was only one person I wanted to talk to at the moment, and it wasn't any of these three. But how was I supposed to talk to her or, most importantly, love her in any way if this son of a bitch keeps screwing everything up?!

"You're idiots, both of ye. You for messin' with my friend and you for fallin' for her!" John pointed from Paul to me.

"Alright, John. I don't think you're helpin' too much." Ringo said. "Now, can one of you just explain what happened?"

"Lori's what happened." Paul said after a moment. I looked up quickly. I didn't expect him to talk. But I realized that was rather impossible when concerning Paul.

"I see that," Ringo said. He paused for a moment. "Look, Paul, after what you told me at my place –"

"What?" I said, immediately looking from Paul to Ringo.

"What?" Ringo echoed.

"What'd he say to you?" I asked him. I looked over at Paul and saw him shuffle uncomfortably in his seat.

"Well, about you, err, takin' Lori from 'im and all that..."

"WHAT!?" I stood up, almost knocking the chair backwards. "What do you mean 'takin' Lori from him'? If anythin' it's HIM taking her from ME!"

"But he said –"

"Yeah I'm sure he said a lot of things, Rich." I turned to Paul. "So what other lies 'ave you been sayin'?"

He stood up as well, that very apologetic expression back on his pathetic face. "Alright, George..."

"Wow, Paul. Lyin' to Richie here and forcin' him go on yer side just to win over a girl that doesn't love you? This sounds like a cheesy soap opera Mimi would watch..." John said as he smoked a cigarette.

"I didn't lie to him! I was just sayin'..."

"Saying what? Saying how much Lori loves you and how I'm the bad guy and tried to steal her away?" I guessed. By the look on his face, turns out I was right.

"That was a lie?" Ringo asked him obviously hurt by it all.

"No but..."

"What? You're gonna continue lyin'?" John added.

"Not only was it a lie. It's turned completely backwards, you see. She loves me and he's the one tryin' to steal her away!" I told Ringo.

"What? That's terrible! Why would you do that?" Ringo said.

"Look, I'm sorry alright? I didn't mean to..."

"Oh here we go with the 'I didn't mean to' bullshit. Call me when this thing gets physical again. There's nothin' on the telly, anyway." John said as he walked away.

"I wanna know somethin', Paul." I said.

He sighed. "What?"

"What did you do to Lori that caused her to break down? What the hell did you say to her?"

"Nothing." He replied quietly. Paul was usually great at this, but his hazel eyes tried nothing to hide his lie.

Silence.

I thought, since the very first day this whole thing started, that maybe I'd be able to get my way for once. Maybe Paul would stop being such a big-headed prick and let me get this one thing I wanted. Because when it came to birds, he was so used to them being all over him. He was also used to them _not _being all over me. I always knew Lori saw past his charm and wit and actually looked at him as a person, as a _friend_. Not a lover. And I guess that's just too much for Paul to grasp....

It was now eerily quiet in the room. We stood there like fools, waiting for one another to say something. But no one could think of anything to say. The only thing that interrupted this was a sudden knock at the door. I walked over and opened it only to find the very reason to our problems.

"George," She had been crying just moments before, and I had a feeling it wasn't about Paul. "I need to tell you something..."

**~Well, here you have it. I know I've said this before but, seriously, you commenters (and you know who you are!) just make my day! I love you all for reading this :) Thank you!~**


	17. Chapter 17

"What is it?" I asked her, my voice shaking. Lori just stared at the floor. I looked around the room. Paul, John, and Ringo were watching her carefully, waiting for her to say something, _anything. _Finally, she opened her purse, pulled out two strips of paper, and handed them to me. I studied them for a moment, then looked up at her with a puzzled expression. "Plane tickets?" I asked. Lori nodded slowly.

"Where're we goin'?"

"Not _we_, George."

"What?"

She sighed and began slowly, "My dad came by yesterday. He said he was movin' to America and wanted me to come along. And... I accepted the offer."

"...What?" I repeated stupidly. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. It couldn't be true, could it? Her expression was impassive. We just watched each other in silence, neither one of us knowing what to say.

It was John who did the talking. Or yelling rather. "What do you mean your moving with your dad? What the hell are you thinking!"

"I think it would be better for both him and I. Y'know, to get to know each other for once." Lori replied.

"The bleedin' bastard leaves you for ten years and the day he decides to show up you leave with him!" John screamed, apparently not believing her words either.

"It's my choice, John!"

"And a bad one at that." John said. "You _can't _leave with him. I'm not letting you!"

"Oh, so you're my father now, are you?" Lori crossed her arms over her chest in annoyance.

"Might as well be. Considering the man you're going to be leavin' with soon can barely be called your 'father' anyway."

"That's not true." She said, looking down at the floor once again.

"It's not?"

She shook her head.

"Oh give me a break. That man fucked up your entire family and you decide to just forgive him as if everything has been so fucking dandy the past decade?"

"It's not _your_ life, Lennon! What do you care?"

"Because I care about you. Unlike your so-called 'daddy'."

"He does care about me!"

John laughed. "Right. He cared about you so much, he decided to disappear for a few years. I can see where you're going with that." He said sarcastically.

"Shutup, John. You don't know him. He's a better person now and I really think-"

"God, stop defending him!"

"Stop telling me what to do!" The way she said that made me jump. The room fell silent and she opened the door forcefully to make her way out. But I grabbed her arm, holding her back.

"Don't leave me." I whispered. It sounded pathetic, but her eyes filled with tears.

"I'm sorry." She said softly, kissed my cheek and walked out. I watched her close the door and leave. And it killed me to know that she wasn't coming back.

"God dammit!" John shouted, throwing a teacup he found on the table beside him against the wall, smashing it into a million pieces.

"Alright, calm down." Ringo said, patting John on the back. "It's ok."

"It's not ok, Rich!" John told him. "She's making the worst mistake of her life."

"It's all my fault." I said sadly, sitting on the couch.

"Christ Harrison, don't go blamin' yerself for everythin'." John said.

"But it is! If it weren't for me, she wouldn't have fallen in love, Paul would've never gotten jealous, and none of this fighting would have happened!"

"If anyone should be blamed for any of this, it should be him." John pointed at Paul. Paul was biting his fingernail, a nervous habit, and looking at a spot on the wall. He immediately looked up once he found John was talking about him.

"No." I said. Paul was the easier one to blame. And I admit, most of this was partially his fault. But in the end, it all comes down to me. If I hadn't kissed her in that car, hadn't accepted her offer to go inside her house, if I never told her that I loved her, she'd probably still be here right now. She would have rejected moving to America and we'd all be happy. But no, George Harrison had to satisfy himself before thinking about what could have happened. Nice going.

"George," Ringo began, "Don't beat yourself up for this. Things happen for a reason. Just let it be, yeah?"

I found myself nodding slowly, even though I didn't agree. Yes, things happen for a reason. I believe I met Lori for a reason. But I know I didn't meet her and fall in love just to have her leave me. I opened my mouth to say something but all of a sudden, Paul jumps up and quickly darts out the door. I looked at John, who looked back at me with the same puzzled expression. What was he doing?

* * *

I couldn't help it. I couldn't let her leave. George kept saying it was all his fault but God knows it was mine. I ran down the street, making my way to her house, ignoring the shouts of people I ran in to.

Trying to catch my breath, I knocked quickly on the door. When there was no reply, I knocked again, determined to stay until she answered. Finally, the door swung open, but she didn't seem surprised to see me. She seemed annoyed, angry almost. Not that I blame her.

"What do you want?" She asked harshly.

"I came to apologize," I told her.

"Too late for an apology, don't you think?" She said.

"Look, Lori, I'm not gonna force you to stay. But I think you're makin' a big mistake..."

"Great, another one tellin' me that what I'm doing is wrong. Just what I need." She rolled her eyes and leaned against the door.

"Look, you're hurting a lot of people by doing this. Think about George and his feelings, he can't be without you." I explained.

"Oh yeah, like the way _you_ thought about me and my feelings?"

"This isn't about me, alright?" I answered.

"Please go away." Lori was about to close the door, but I stopped her, pushing the door back open.

"You can't leave 'im. He really loves you."

"You figure that out now?" She said.

I sighed. "Why are you doing this?"

"Why? Paul, I don't want to stay here. I don't want to be a part of a place where friendships are torn because of something so stupid."

I understood what she meant. How could I have let this happen? My best mate, someone I've known for such a long time and would probably know for years to come, was being hurt because of _my _own selfishness. Why couldn't I just let him have this one thing and live on? Was I really that insensitive?

I bit my lip and looked down guiltily. "I'm so sorry."

"Yeah, well, so am I."

"Lori, you have to stay. I never knew I could be so thoughtless. I should have never fought with George or with you. I swear, I never wanted to hurt you. George loves you so much, he deserves you." I buried my face in my hands. "I'm sorry."

She put a comforting hand on my shoulder. "It's alright." She said gently.

I looked up. "You forgive me?"

Lori nodded. "You were sincere. That's all I needed."

She hugged me and we stayed in a nice embrace for a while. "I just want you to know," I said as we pulled apart, "I will never stop loving you. No matter what."

"I will always love you too, Paul. Whether it's the kind of love you want or not."

I laughed. "I can live with that."

She grinned. "We better head back then, tell the others that I'm staying."

_**~I hope you liked it! Only a few more chapters left till the end. *hands out tissues* But don't be too upset, I'm still working on others. Oh and I hope none of you are getting confused with the POV's (I admit, rereading some other chapters, I kind of get confused myself because I put no previous warning on the changes in POV. I swear, I had something there when I typed it but it just didn't show up when I posted...). But I'll be using a line to separate the different POV'S from now on. :) I'm just trusting you guys to know who's POV I'm changing it to. And this is getting kind of long so, yeah. Thank you for reading. You shall all comment...NOW!~**_


	18. Chapter 18

_**I'm lazy so it's not proofread. Bare with me. **_

"John?"

"Hmm?"

The room had been silent for a while after Rich had managed to calm John down. Now, they were intently watching the telly, trying to get their mind's off the previous events. I, on the other hand, was staring at my hands, thinking about everything that happened. I wondered where Paul was, if Lori was ever going to forgive me, and if I would ever see her again. I tried to think of something to do, anything. And only one thing came to mind.

"Where does Lori's father live?" I asked him.

John looked up immediately, looking rather puzzled. "What do you plan to do, Harrison?"

I shrugged. "I just want to know where he lives."

John sighed. "He lives in America, like Lori said."

"Oh," I said, sadly.

"But," John began and I looked up at him, "He's got a house here in Liverpool, too, last time I checked." He turned his attention back to the telly.

"Is it far?" I asked.

"Not really."

"Do you think he's there now?"

"Probably."

I hesitated for a minute. "Can you take me there?"

John looked over at me again, a look of disbelief on his face. "Why would you _possibly _want to go there?"

"I- I just want to talk to him." I stammered.

"No, you don't." John said angrily.

"Why?" I asked, rather annoyed.

"Because you'll just be wastin' your time, son. He's not worth it, trust me."

"Please, John! I just want to talk to him!" I said, practically begging.

"No."

"Please?"

"No!"

"Please!"

"NO!"

"C'mon, John!".

He gave an annoyed sigh. "He's not gonna listen to you."

"I don't care! I just want him to know what I really think about what he's doin'!" I said.

"Stop acting like a baby and get over it, Geo. There's nothin' you could say to that bastard that will change that brain-dead mind of his."

I sighed. "If you want her to stay as much as I do you can at least let me try."

John paused for a moment, thinking. Finally he said, "Fine,"and stood up quickly, making his way to the door. "But if you get your head blown off, it's not my responsibility!" I grinned and stood up, walking up behind him. "Be back later, Rich." He called as he closed the door. Ringo was too focused on the telly to even figure out what we were doing. We got into John's car and started driving off.

"Did you figure out what you're gonna say?" John asked me as he stopped at a red light, looking at me with those large, Buddy Holly glasses.

I shrugged. "Not really."

He laughed. "You're screwed."

"Well, how hard can it be?"

"Oh yeah, I can just see it now," John began mocking in a sort of high-pitched, annoying voice, "'Mr. Saunders, my name's George Harrison. Your daughter is the best shag in the world and I would just _die _if I don't have that hot piece of ass at my doorstep. Please, oh, please, let her stay!'"

I couldn't help but laugh. "I don't sound like that!"

"You'd be surprised." He said as he honked the horn to whoever was slowing him down.

"Ok, I know I won't be saying anything like _that _to him, but I'll try to tell him the truth, I guess."

"Say whatever you want, George. Just as long as you don't piss him off." He said seriously.

I looked over at him, a bit scared. "Does he get mad easily?"

John shrugged. "When it comes to their daughters, father's get really fuckin' nasty."

"Shit," I whispered. What was I thinking? If I say one little thing wrong, it could ruin everything. And I usually have the tendency to say all the wrong things at the worst possible times. Lovely.

"Eh, it's alright, Harrison." John said, patting my back. "Beside the cuts, bruises, and possible stitching-needed injuries, it'll be fine in the end."

"God, stop!" I yelled. I really didn't want to hear that.

He laughed. "I'm only jokin', mate."

I looked out the window, trying to think of something to say when we arrived. But, all too soon, we drove up to a simple, one-story brick house with a nice looking yard and a 'Welcome' sign on the door. It all seemed pretty innocent...I think.

"Here we are," John said, stopping at the driveway. "The crypt of the devil."

I stepped out of the car slowly. I didn't know what the hell I was gonna say, how the hell I was gonna say it, or who the hell I was saying it to, considering I have never even seen the man in my life. But here I was and why? Because I am the stupidest fucking man in the world, that's why.

"Ready?" John asked. I licked my lips and nodded. He smirked and knocked on the door.

After a few moments, the door swung open and there stood a man, about 6'2, with slicked back auburn hair and deep, hazel eyes. He had some of Lori's features and could easily be made out to be her father. "Yes?"

"Uh..." I said, sounding like a complete idiot.

"Hello," John said emotionlessly.

"John! How nice to see you again, son," the man greeted, smiling an obviously fake smile, and shaking John's hand, "Haven't seen you in ages!"

"'Course not, you've been gone the whole time." He said coldly.

"Well yes, but I'm back now aren't I?"

"Unfortunately. Not for long, though, right? Because you always seem to mysteriously disappear." John crossed his arms over his chest, his tone was harsh.

The man's face turned from pleasant to frighteningly serious. "So you want to play it like that then, Mr. Lennon?"

"I'm not playing anything."

The man gave a frustrated sigh. "Why did you come to see me, John?"

John laughed shortly. "Trust me, seeing you is the _last _thing I want to do!"

He narrowed his eyes and finally looked over at me, acknowledging my existence. The fake smile came back onto his face. "Now who's this?"

I half expected John to answer for me but, after a few seconds of silence and waiting, I knew I needed to say something. "G-George Harrison, sir." I said, my voice shaking.

"Well nice to meet you, George!" He grabbed my hand in a very firm grip and began shaking it. "Are you the one here to see me then?"

I nodded quickly and he stepped aside. "Well come in then," He said. John was about to protest but my pleading look shut him up and made him step inside the house along with me. The man led us to the living room and made us sit on the leather couch. "So why are you boys here?"

"Um..." I bit my lip, not knowing what to say, until John elbowed me in the ribs. I flinched and allowed myself to start. "It's about Lori..."

"Ah," The man nodded, "I knew it had something to do with her."

"Yeah, well, uh, Mr. Saunders..."

"Call me Sam, son," He said, sitting in the chair in front of us.

"Right, uh, Sam. I just wanted to say that I kind of think it would be best if, uh, she could, you know...stay?" I said. I know I sounded incredibly stupid and I could practically feel John rolling his eyes while I was talking, but I was so nervous. The man could easily break my neck at the moment if he wanted to.

"I don't think that would be such a good idea, stayin' here in Liverpool. She told me herself she couldn't stand it here anymore, just today. I would be hurting her if I let her stay. And I wouldn't want to do that, now would I?" He explained. John scoffed and looked down, laughing to himself just loud enough for us to hear. Sam gave him the most threatening look I had ever seen.

"Yes but we'll try to fix it. We don't want her to leave..." I said.

"And I don't want her to stay." He shrugged. "Besides, nothing good is in Liverpool anyway. I live in New York and I can tell you, it's fabulous over there. She'll love it."

"Yeah, but..."

"She's not staying and that's final." Sam started to sound a lot like my own father, only a lot more intimidating.

"Mr. Saunders, um, Sam, I don't want her to leave because I, uh, you know, really like her and all..." I told him, nervously biting my lip.

He laughed. "I can tell."

"Yeah, so...I, uh..." God, why couldn't I form proper sentences!

"Look, George, I understand where you're comin' from, alright? But I think she's better off in New York with me. Not with some trouble making, rock n' roll loving, hooligans," He stole a glance at John, "And certainly not here in Liverpool. Maybe you should just forget about her, find yourself a nice girl and live on."

"But..."

"Did you ever think that nothing is worth it here for her? That maybe nothing is good enough here? Nothing, not even you." He said, putting on that fake smile again. I thought about the words that just poured out from that man's mouth and anger quickly built up inside of me. How _dare _he say I wasn't good enough for Lori. He didn't even fucking know me! John was completely right about this man. He was a good for nothing bastard who didn't deserve Lori at all. And I wasn't going to leave this house without letting him know it.

"Listen," I said through clenched teeth. "I _love _your daughter. And I think she should stay here with all the other people that actually love her. Because honestly, she doesn't deserve you as a father. If you had any respect towards her at all, you wouldn't have left her in the first place. So I don't know who the fuck you think you are, but you are the biggest bastard I've ever met in my life."

The room fell completely still, as John and Sam stared at me dumbstruck. I looked at the floor, hoping I hadn't completely blown everything, which no doubt I had. I hoped that, by the time I looked up again, that fake smile would be back on that arsehole's face and he would just forget everything I had just said. But, judging by the way he pulled me up forcefully by the collar of my shirt, up to meet his beat-red face, I knew things weren't going to turn out as well as I had hoped.

_**~ Reviews = Happiness. So do me the favor, yeah? (: ~**_


	19. Chapter 19

_**A/N: Lori's POV, then John's. It annoys me to put those reminders before, so I'm just telling you now. Heh. Heh.**_

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* * *

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We finally reached the house a few minutes later. Paul was telling me about the time he and George had gone hitchhiking when they were 13 and 14. He said that they had picked the worst possible time to go all the way to Blackpool, since they almost froze their arses off while walking to the B&B they were going to stay at. Also, how he and George would get into all sorts of fights about ridiculous things, then later laugh at their own stupidity. He told me how he had felt so protective over George, even though he was only one year older and they were both too young to be hitchhiking anyway. I thought about how precious their relationship was and what a shame it would be to break it. So, Paul promised me that the first thing he would do when we arrived was apologize to George. Too bad there was no sight of George when we got there. John was nowhere to be seen, either, which was rather strange since he was always home. The only thing we saw when we walked in was Richie, watching the telly and scarfing down some potato chips from Julia's cabinet.

"Hey, Rings. Where's John and George?" Paul asked, walking up next to the drummer.

He looked up and shrugged. "Dunno."

Paul laughed shortly. "What do you mean ye don't know? They were here with you when I left!"

"Yeah, yeah, they WERE here. But they left a little while ago."

"Well, where'd they go then?" I asked him.

"Errm," he closed his eyes as he tried to remember. "I'm not really sure. I wasn't payin' attention."

"So they just got up and left?"

"No, I heard them talkin' about somethin', I was just too focused on the telly," he explained.

"Do you have ANY idea where they could be at all?" Paul asked in obvious annoyance.

"Um... oh! It had something to do with her dad or somethin'" Ringo answered, pointing to me.

Of course.

"They're at me dad's house," I stated simply.

Paul looked over at me, bewilderment covering his young-looking features. "I thought your dad lived in the states?"

"He's got a house here," I told him. "It's not far. I know a shortcut." I began to walk towards the door.

"Can't we just wait 'til they come back?" I heard Paul say from behind me. "They probably just went there to talk or whatever."

"Yeah, that's it. They went to talk to 'im about you stayin' and stuff." Ringo nodded.

"Good. So when they come back we can just tell 'em that you're stayin' and then it's all settled."

Ringo grinned at me. "You're stayin'?"

Paul nodded. "She is, yeah. We worked things out, didn't we?"

"Seriously guys, we've gotta go find them!" I said, ignoring their conversation. I could just imagine what was going on right now in that house...

"Why? Jus' wait for them to come back." Paul repeated as he got comfortable on the couch, looking at the television.

I sighed. "It's obvious you've never met my father before."

* * *

"What the hell did you just say to me?" Sam spat, looking at George with a face of pure hatred.

"Alright, alright. Just calm the fuck down!" I yelled, trying to release his grip from George's collar.

"Not before I give your friend what he deserves!" Sam said through clenched teeth.

George watched him in horror, stupid git didn't know what the fuck to do! He wouldn't dare try to defend himself, he couldn't compare with Sam fucking Saunders. George could even admit himself that he was a twig; stupid, skinny, and easily broken.

The worst part of all was that I knew this was going to happen. I knew it and I didn't even stop it. I just took him here, all dandy and merry, just so he could get his arse kicked. I made a mental note to fall down a cliff when this was over. And I WILL take George along with me. He was the stupid one who came up with all of this!

Sam's face was scarily red, and i've pissed him off more than enough times to witness his many different red-faced shades. But this time it was even redder than usual, which scared me a bit. He was ready to snap George in half...literally. But hey, the guy was a fucking loonatic. What else is new?

"C'mon, man, give 'im a break. He's just a kid!" I said, still attemting to pull the man away.

"I don't care!"

"Ok, ok. Let's make a deal, yeah?" I suggested, saying the words fast before anything else happened. "How 'bout we both just leave you to whatever the hell you do in your free time and we all just forget this ever happened, ok?" I shuddered at the thought of what he actually does do in his free time. The look he gave me in response was between one of anger and one that has just witnessed extreme stupidity.

"Well how 'bout it, then?" I said, rolling my eyes. "I don't have all day."

"You know what?" He began as he tightened his grip on George's poor tee-shirt. "How 'bout you shutup before i beat both your little friend AND you. That sound good, Lennon?"

I stared at him for a second. He turned his attention back to George, who was attempting to use all his puny strength to get away from him. Well, if I could just shift Sam's anger from George to me, maybe he would leave him alone. But that would only make him want to kill _me_ instead, which wasn't the brightest of my ideas. But what can I do, I had to look out for the younger. So, of course, I had to do what I do best. And I had a feeling I wasn't going to enjoy it as much in the end.

"Sir?" I said calmly.

He didn't even bother to look at me. "WHAT!"

"Were you born this way or do you actually practice the fine art of being an arsehole?"

Both Sam and George looked over at me immediately. I could've sworn I saw George giggle before Sam pushed him away and lunged at me, grabbing me hard by my shoulders and pushing me backwards with all his strength. The bookshelf shook violently as my body slammed against it, and I cried out as my arm hit against the sharp edge. That was definitely gonna leave a mark.

But that wasn't enough, no. Once again, he grabbed me, this time by my wrist, and swung me across the room. I landed face-down on the floor, the side of my head hitting hard against the tiles. "I told you, John. Do you regret it now?"

"No." I said as I shook my head, but it came out muffled as I laid face-down on the floor.

I could hear Sam's heavy footsteps getting closer and then stopping. He knelt down beside me. "You've always been a problem, son. Never doin' what you're told. And then you wonder why you get into situations like these?"

I lifted my head to look at him, my face completely impassive. "And then you wonder why no one wants you, you bleedin' pig."

He narrowed his eyes and clenched his teeth before he took the back of my head and slammed my face against the floor, holding my head down so I wasn't able breathe. I struggled, trying to tear his hands away from my head. George decided then that he ought to stop standing there like a useless idiot and help. Not that helping, in George's case, wasn't useless anyway. He ran up to Sam and tried to yank his arm away from me but with no apparent result. Instead, Sam pushed him away effortlessly and George was knocked over onto the floor, landing hard

on his side and then holding his right arm in pain.

Sam looked like a madman as he continued to shove my face into the ground, like a little kid shoving a classmate's face into the sand in a playground. Only it used to be ME who did that to my classmates all the time at school.

Karma's a bitch.

The most amusing thing about the situation, though, was that Sam never shut the fuck up while he was basically suffocating me. "Do you remember the time when I first met your annoying, eight year old arse? You haven't changed a bit, y'know. Same rebellious, idiotic prick

that I met years ago. It's quite surprising, isn't it? That a guy can still be the same shit he was as a kid." He laughed as I struggled underneath his strong grip. I could barely hear him, everything sounded so distant. I was beginning to see spots and, instead of continuing to struggle against Sam, I tried to catch my breath. But it was hopeless. I tried to yell out, but it sounded pathetic.

"Fuck, stop! Stop it! Let 'im go, you're gonna kill 'im!" I heard someone yell desperately. I figured that was George. Sam began yelling at him, but I couldn't make out what he was saying. I was beginning to feel the blood gushing from my nose since it was forcefully being shoved against the cold, hard floor repeatedly, each time harder than before.

I was still trying to grab at his hands and pull him away. But it was useless. And he was winning. Fuck, I was letting him win. And I was completely helpless. It just wasn't fair.

I was just about to give in until I heard the front door slam open, almost shaking the entire house. And then another voice, a female voice...

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?"

After that, everything went black.

_**~Go on, review. You know you want to.~**_


	20. Chapter 20

**Lori's POV**

I looked around the room, from Sam to John to Sam again, to George and back at Sam. What was going on here? I knew I wasn't going to find a pleasant scene when I walked in, but not a damned wrestling match! And John...he was unconscious. What the _hell_ had been going on? I stared at Sam, who was looking at me with some sort of shocked and apologetic expression. All which began to seem fake.

Sam stood up immediately, hands defensively in the air. "Lori, I-"

"What did you do? What happened?" I cried. I ran up to John and knelt beside him, examining his bloody nose and bruised neck, thanks to a certain someone's earlier grasp.

"They were...I didn't...He was..." He tried to explain pathetically.

"Just..." I bit my lip as I continued looking at John. "Just shutup."

The room fell into an eerie silence. Sam looked at me, then down at the ground, not saying a word so as to not upset me even more. Paul and Ringo stayed off to the side, observing the events but keeping quiet. I looked over at George, who was half sitting and half lying on the floor, awaiting what was going to happen next. We made eye contact, and I could tell there was a bit of remorse in his eyes. Because I knew he was the reason we were all here, I knew he was the one to come up with the idea to talk to Sam. But he didn't know about him. He didn't know about the aggressive, insensitive man that hid behind that happy, caring facade he put on everyday. And how could I blame him when _I _fell for it too?

John remained out cold as I motioned for Paul and Ringo to come over. "Pick him up and take him to the car," I instructed, "you can drive back to the house. I'll stay here."

They nodded and Paul pointed to George. "What about him?"

I looked over at lad, who was still on the ground. "Let 'im stay."

"Are you sure?" Ringo asked. He stole a glance at Sam, who was quietly observing just as George was. "We could all just go back together..."

"No, no. It's better if I stay here." I said.

"With George?" Paul asked in confusion.

"Yes."

He looked over at Ringo and shrugged. "Uh, alright. We'll wait for you guys back home, I guess." He walked over to John and took a hold of his legs and signaled for Ringo to get the other side. Once they were set, they carried John out the door and into the car, leaving Sam, George, and I in the house alone.

And once again, it was silent.

I looked around the house, which was all too familiar and yet so strangely foreign. When I was younger, this was my ultimate spot to visit whenever my mum was at work. She had no idea I was visiting Sam, and I didn't dare to tell her for she wouldn't ever approve of it. It's been nine years since I've last stepped into this house. And it took me that long to figure out I should've never visited it in the first place.

I turned, facing away from both men and pretended to study some vase he probably got as a present from the countless chicks he's screwed over a ten year period. "George," I began. I heard him shuffling from behind me, probably standing himself up.

"Yes?" He said softly, like a lost child.

"Can _you _tell me what happened?" I asked.

"Uh, yeah. Sure."

Silence again.

I turned. "Well?"

"Um," he nervously looked at Sam and then to the floor. "I made John take me here to talk to him and things got a bit...out of hand..."

"Really? I hadn't noticed."

"Yeah, well, he didn't want you to stay. And he went off insultin' me and John, so I yelled at him. And I didn't _mean_ to yell at him 'cos I knew he'd get mad but I wanted you to stay so bad and he told me I wasn't good enough for you and I knew he wouldn't agree but I just _had _to tell him and-" He rambled on like a child before I interrupted.

"Ok, George. I understand. And I'm not blamin' you for anything, yeah? _You _shouldn't be the one blamed here, anyway." I looked over at Sam. "Right?"

It was quiet for a minute or two (silences were getting on my nerves lately), until, for the first time since I walked past that front door, Sam spoke up. "You know what?" He said, his voice a lot harsher than I expected. "How 'bout we see _my _side of the story, that sound good?"

I continued to stare at him, completely unfazed by his tone. "I'm waiting."

He pointed a finger at George. "This kid and that other pig have the nerve to come over here and fucking lecture me about not being a good father!" He turned towards him, "You don't even know, you little sod. You think you can just be a smartass and get away with it? You think you can come over _my _house and insult me under _my _ownroof? You don't know what you're even talking about!"

"Hey, man, you were insultin' _me_ first! You never even met me!" George shot back.

"I can say the same thing, can't I?" Sam said, both of them face-to-face once again.

"Don't worry, I've heard plenty of crap 'bout you. And since it's never anything good, I think I can tell what kind of guy you are!"

"Alright, stop it!" I said, pulling George away. "God, stop fightin' and listen!" They both stopped and looked at me. I sighed. "I don't know why you're doin' this, both of you."

Sam walked over to me and put a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Sweetheart," He said softly, "I love you. I don't want you to stay with all these thick, no good lads that you call 'friends'. You deserve better. There are loads of wonderful people where I live..."

I shrugged his hand off. "Don't talk about them like that. And don't say that you love me."

He looked taken aback. "What? Why?"

"Because it's not true!"

"How could you say that? I'm your father!"

"Really? Sure as hell don't seem like it." I said and walked to the other side of the room. "I don't need you telling me anymore lies."

"I would never lie to you." He said, but even by his expression one could tell it was absolutely fake. Just like him.

"Never?" I asked in fake surprise. "Oh, that's funny. Because that time when you told me you would never leave me, that seemed pretty inaccurate. Or that time when you said that you were just going on a really long 'vacation' to Hawaii. Yes, that was the complete truth and nothing but, right? Oh but my favorite is when you told the family that you would _never_ cheat on mum. That you knew absolutely nothing about those pictures and letters she found so neatly hidden in your closet. That you've never seen that beautiful, blond woman in your entire life." I laughed. "You know, the one you _didn't _leave all of us for just six months later?"

Sam just looked at me, his mouth opening and closing, trying to figure out what to say. But he couldn't say anything. He knew I was right, he knew I finally figured out everything. I'm not stupid, nor was I ever. I was completely aware all this time that he was a phony, a fake. But when he came back, I kept denying those thoughts. I was so blinded by the fact that I would be able to have a father again, I accepted to go with him without a second thought. And that wasn't the way to go.

"Then why are you goin' with him?" George finally spoke up.

"I'm not." I answered. "I'm stayin' right here."

"You are?" Sam asked, not in surprise, but in disappointment.

I nodded. "Yes. Because I'm better off without you." I walked over to George and took his hand. "C'mon George, let's go."

"Hold on!" Sam said as we were walking towards the door. "I flew all the way to Liverpool to get you, I thought you wanted to go to New York with me. To be with the family!"

"Family?" I asked. "You mean the blond that you 'knew nothing about' ten years ago? And those kids of yours which I've never even laid eyes on before? No, that's your family. Not mine."

"But-"

I opened the door and stepped outside with George. "Nice seeing you, again. Hope you have a good life...dad."

And with that, the door closed, separating us yet again.

And frankly, I didn't care.

_**~Alright, this one's short. But I'll probably be updating this very weekend, so you won't be waiting too long for another. And school started a few weeks ago, so I'm stressing out like mad since I'm literally failing math already. But I don't want to bore you with my life's problems. The only thing that could possibly save me are some good ol' reviews...*wink, wink*~**_


	21. Chapter 21

"Lori, I'm so sorry. I really shouldn't have gone to this guy's house. I'm so sorry..." George apologized for what seemed like the millionth time since we got into the car. We were driving back to John's house to see if he was finally awake and, most importantly, to tell him that I was staying.

"Yeah, you shouldn't have," I told him. "But, you did it out of good intention. So I'll forgive you."

He turned towards me. "I'm so glad you're stayin'."

"I am too."

"Why were you gonna go with him, anyway?"

I sighed. "I just liked the thought of having a dad, I guess."

"Yeah, well, dad's are overrated." George smiled. "And plus, he was a total arse. He should probably get that temper checked out. It would do a lot of good, that."

"Right, why don't you go tell him that then?" I grinned as I drove up to the driveway of the house.

"Yes, you should come along. It would be the highlight of the week."

"Come along and get Harrison guts all over me? No, thanks. I just bought this shirt, you see."

"But aren't Harrison guts the best? I hear it cures blindness."

"I'm sure not even the blind want that anywhere near them."

"Jealous?"

I slammed my hands on the steering wheel sarcastically. "However did you know?"

"I'm just _that_ good, luv."

I smiled "Yes you are."

He looked at me, his expression suddenly very serious. "I love you, Lori."

I watched him back, mirroring his expression as I nodded. "I love you too, George."

He leaned in and the space between our mouths was quickly filled, his lips finally meeting mine. My thoughts went immediately back to our first kiss only weeks ago. What caught my attention, however, was that it felt as fresh and wonderful as the first time our lips connected. Which, I figured, seemed to be what love was all about. Being able to experience that exhilarating feeling over and over again.

He pulled away and looked into my eyes for a moment until a small smile covered his features. "Look at us. John is in the house completely unconscious and we're here with our tongues down each other's throats."

"Way to ruin the moment!" I said, even though I was completely satisfied.

"Well." He shrugged and got out of the car. I opened the door and got out myself, meeting George at the front door who, so casually, locked our hands together.

"Paul! Rich!" I yelled as we stepped inside.

"In here!" I heard Paul's voice answer from the living room. We walked into the room and found Paul, Ringo, and an awake John lying on the floor gulping down a glass of water.

"John! Are you alright?" I asked, running over to him and sitting beside him.

"Hmm," He answered a bit sleepily. "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine."

"You sure?" George asked.

"Yes! Christ, I've been asked that ten times already! I'm fine!"

"He's grouchy when he jus' wakes up," I whispered to George, to which he nodded.

"Alright, 'ave you got any cuts or anythin'? And keep that cloth to your nose, you'll ruin the carpet." Paul told him.

"Ok, mummy dear!"John said and did as Paul told. "I dunno if I've got any cuts. But I think me neck is permanently bruised."

I sighed. "John, you're so stupid."

"I love you too, Lori."

"Really!" I said. "You _know _about Sam. You shouldn't have gone over there! What were you thinkin'?"

"I was thinkin' that I should do what's good for you and convince that stupid son of a bitch that you're stayin' with us and not him!" John explained. "And besides, George is the idiot who had to open his mouth and insult the sod in the first place. Don't you know that's _my _job?"

George rolled his eyes. "Well, if you hadn't insulted him right afterwards then all this wouldn't have happened!"

"Yeah, it wouldn't have. Instead, you'd be broken in two and drifting in a sewer somewhere. But that would've been better for all of us, right?"

"Alright, ok. So _both_ of you were idiots who insulted him. Can we move on?" I said in annoyance.

"Ow," John whined as he massaged the back of his neck. "That guy still has it, doesn't he?"

"He did this to you before?" Ringo asked.

"Oh yeah, plenty of times. You should've seen me, I was such a little prick. I used to put worms in his drawer of clothes and all kinds of things in his shampoo bottle. He'd throw a fuckin' fit."

"Hey," I said, "it wasn't funny. He wouldn't let you come over his house anymore. I had to sneak out and visit all by myself."

"Oh, I'm sure you survived." John said. "And by the way, does this all mean you're stayin' here? 'Cause I'd hate to have gone through all that for nothin', y'know."

"No, John," I began sarcastically, "I decided I'm gonna be moving to a completely different country with a maniac who practically injured my best friend."

John gasped dramatically, putting a hand over his chest. "That sarcasm was _completely _uncalled for!"

I laughed. "How could I leave you, John?"

"You can't. But it's not me you should worry about. George would just _die _without your lovin'!" He winked at him.

I swear, George turned red. "Shurrup."

"So, are you two official or what?" Ringo asked, pointing between me and George.

I looked over at the lad. "Err, yeah. I think we are." I answered and he gave a small smile.

Paul sighed heavily. "Finally."

"Oh yeah, Paul. I know you've been waitin' for this your entire life!" George said mockingly.

"Shurrup," Paul answered. "I'm just glad you guys are together so there won't be anymore problems."

"Yeah, and you'll still be droolin' after her when she walks by." Ringo said with a laugh.

Paul glared at him. "Shut. Up."

"Oh that reminds me, Georgie..." John spoke up. "I just wanted to inform you on a few things. 'Cause, y'know, if you cheat on her... I'll kill you. If you leave her, I'll kill you. If you make her cry or do her wrong, I'll kill you. And if you raise a hand to her, I'll fuckin' murder you. Do you get it or do I have to clarify it further?"

"Umm," George nodded quickly. "Yeah, ok."

"Good, then I'm happy for ya."

"God, John. I can take care of myself." I told him.

"Sure you can. Just like when you decided to leave with some lunatic you haven't seen in years and live with him for the rest of your life. Way to take care of yourself, luv."

I sighed. "You're gonna hold this against me for the rest of me life, aren't you?"

"Damn right."

"Well, anyroad, I'd really like to forget about this whole thing and go out. Me and Rings decided to go down to the diner, want to come?" Paul said.

I shrugged. "Sure."

I stood up, taking hold of George's hand and followed Paul out the door while Ringo helped John stand up.

"You feelin' alright?" Ringo asked.

John glared at him. "I dunno, why don't you ask that again? Maybe my fist can answer you this time."

"Oh... sorry."

"Don't worry, Rich. You'll get used to good ol' Johnny." Paul informed him.

The diner was only a few blocks away, so we simply made our way walking, me and George's hands still locked together. On the way, we joked around, Paul and Ringo showing us the new dance move they made up while John was still knocked out (how they came up with it, I will never know), John found some girls he knew from the college and tried lifting up their skirts as they walked by, and John and Paul decided that the local elderly woman walking by needed her usual Lennon/McCartney torture. We finally reached the diner at 6.30 that night.

John breathed in deeply. "Thank God, I'm starved!"

"When aren't you?"

"What are you implying, McCartney?" John turned to him. "You sayin' I'm fat?"

"Yes, John. That's _exactly _what I'm saying."

"Well, at least I wasn't fuckin' 200 pounds at 14!"

"At least I'm not 200 pounds _now_!"

"Neither am I!"

Paul scoffed. "Yeah, right."

"You want to take this outside?"

"We _are _outside, dumbass."

"Umm," George said. "Can we eat before we turn into Muhammad Ali? 'Cause I'm fuckin' hungry."

"Right. Paulie here needs his protein before he gets beaten."

"Shutup, Lennon."

"Make me, McCartney!"

I rolled my eyes as we entered the noisy diner. How could I leave this? These guys were insane. Liverpool was insane. But this was my home. And, honestly, I wouldn't have it any other way.

_**OF COURSE I update almost a week after I originally said I was going to. But, c'mon, what'd you expect? So go on, review. I love all of your reviews almost as much as I love every one of my readers! Oh and in other news, I had to do a project for language arts last week and we had to write a creative writing story on anything we wanted (every sentence had to be in ABC order, though, which sucked some serious ass) and I wrote it all on Beatles references. Turns out my language arts teacher is a Beatles fan and knew everything I was talking about. 100% AND reading it in front of the class? I THINK SO! **_

_**Oh, pardon my randomness.**_


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